Behind Every Good Man
by TragicCure
Summary: Post Movie. Forced to marry for an alliance, can an Irish Princess warm the heart and earn the love of the one Knight who has already given it away to a woman he can never have? Lancelot/OC and slight Dagonet/OC. Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

_Okie dokie…new ff here. I know I have one going and a Troy fic, but this came to me and I had to put it down. I am actually quite pleased where this is going and thought I would get all your wonderful thoughts. _

_So this is post movie and of course, all the Knights live. I do not own anything associated with the movie King Arthur since I do make references to it, so anything you recognize, not mine. _

_Just thought I would let you all know, I, do not own Finchad mac Garrchon, he was actually a King of Leinster who died in 485 nor do I own Coirpre mac Neil who was the King of Tara. He killed King Finchad in 485. Not that it applies to my story, but thought I would letcha know. Other than those names, my story is not historically accurate, sorry if that bothers some. _

_Keela, (kee-la), Derived from the word "__cadhla__" meaning "beautiful"_

Raging colours of blue, red, yellow and green danced across the stone floor, the floating dust motes glimmering with colour, as rays from the shinning sun burst through the stained glass window creating an almost majestic appearance. Despite the beauty of it all, the room was tense and silent as the two men shifted uncomfortably in their seats while they watched the distraught woman before them, her beautiful features contorted in pain, her eyes slowly appearing lifeless and her poise deflating.

Keela swallowed the lump that was forming deep within her throat and tried to will the tears away. Taking a deep breath, she sucked up the inevitable and squared her shoulders, standing tall and confident as she was taught. "When?" she asked lowly, her voice defeated and at the same time dejected.

"We leave at first light," her father replied dryly, a slight frown forming on his aged features as he watched his daughter.

Keela could only nod, her voice sure to crack if she even thought of forming words. She had never hated her father nor thought ill of him, but at this moment she could honestly say that she did. She had screamed at him like a banshee, stopped talking to him for weeks and even thrown a childish fit, but despite all her attempts, he would not budge…she was being forced to marry.

Fallon stood from his place next to his father and took tentative steps towards his twin. Her face had become unreadable as she stood as tall and proud as she always did. It was her eyes that were betraying the emotions that were wrecking havoc on her body. "Sister, I understand this—."

Keela clenched her fists to prevent herself from striking her brother. "You really don't," she hissed through gritted teeth cutting him off. How could he even think to speak such words to her? He was a man and therefore automatically blessed with the right to live his own life in anyway he saw fit. She once again cursed the male gender. It was their narrow-minded thinking that decided they had the right to dictate and rule women's lives as if they were cattle. Whoever came up with that decision better pray to whomever it is that they pray to that they never meet her or they will certainly be having a very intimate discussion with her swords. Yes, a very intimate discussion indeed she vowed to herself in an attempt to distract her thoughts from the present issue.

Fallon sighed and turned to his father, his eyes pleading with the older man to reconsider. King Finchad shook his head sadly in response to his son's look and rose from his throne taking quick steps towards his fuming daughter. She and Fallon were all he had in the world to remind him of their mother and he hated to do this to her, despite what she thought. "Daughter, Sir Lancelot is an admirable warrior, a strong man and will take care of you. He is King Arthur's first Knight and next in the line for the throne until a heir is provided. It is a formidable match," he reasoned in another lame attempt to try and ease her pain. He knew by the look in his daughter's eyes that she couldn't care less, the man could be a pig farmer or a God and she wouldn't care. That was one thing that made her so special. She loved everyone and anyone regardless of the blood that flowed through their veins, the position or status one held in life or the colour of your skin it made no difference to her. It was one's actions and words that she based her opinions on.

Keela raised an eyebrow at her father before furrowing her brow in anger. "Do you think that matters? Do you think that makes this any easier?" she hissed, her voice raising as each word left her mouth. "Have you heard the tales of him, hmmm?" she questioned her finger pointed in her father's chest. He had heard and he only hopped that the man would learn to love her as everyone else did.

"He is a lover of woman. Uses them to suite his own pleasures then tosses them aside to move onto something better," she was yelling now, tears welling in her eyes as she vented. She had heard plenty about the great Knights of the Round Table, how honourable they were, but she still couldn't believe she was being forced to marry the one with the worst reputation. She could have handled it if he was quite and bloodthirsty like the scout, but a man who loved woman merely for the pleasure they brought him was too much for her. She didn't know what he looked like or anything of the sort. If he was a womanizing pig that must mean he was pleasing to the eyes…Right? She did know that he had never been bested in battle, wielding twin swords as if extended limbs. That was something and so far the only thing she found interesting.

King Finchad sighed and shook his head sadly, doing his best to push aside his doubts about the Knight in that regard. He really didn't have a choice. "I know this is difficult, but you are doing this for the good of your people. Would you rather I send you off to marry Garvan?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. He knew when her shoulders slumped he had won the argument. This was hurting him as much as it was her. But he had faith in the infamous Knight; at least that was what he had made himself believe. Lancelot may love woman but he also had an unwavering reputation of honour and was a fierce warrior. He would take care of his beloved daughter, and if not, well...he had made it quite clear to the King of Britain that he wouldn't hesitate to place the man's head on a spit should Lancelot break her heart or harm her in anyway. Only he and Arthur knew of the threat and he knew that was enough.

Fallon had his own qualms with the Knight. It was really quite simple in his mind, he would trust his father's judgment but if the man broke his sister's heart or harmed her in anyway shape or form, he was going to kill him. With those thoughts and the sight of tears in her beautiful eyes, he wrapped his arms around his sister and held her as she clung to him and cried, an emotion very few ever saw. This was torture for him as well. A part of him, a large part, his other half in fact, was being ripped away from him. They were twins and had never been apart for long periods of time. They did everything together, literally, and he was going to miss her to the point where he knew he was going to be physically sick. "I am sure you will learn to love him as mother did father," he cooed, his large calloused hands weaving through her golden curls in an attempt to sooth her, and himself for that matter.

King Finchad just stood there and watched his children embrace. They were a blessing from the Gods for he could not have asked for better children. "Keela," he addressed softly, his large hand pulling her shoulder away from Fallon so he could see her.

Keela took a deep breath and turned away from Fallon and looked at her father. The man who had raised her indifferent to the fact she was a woman, gave her all the liberties and freedom of a man, until now.

"The world is an unfair place and unfortunately we are all pawns in it. I am sorry you are a victim of your times," his voice was gentle and soft, one only saved for his children, as he pushed a stray curl over her shoulder and gazed at her with fatherly love. "But you my daughter are strong, brave, and beautiful in all ways that count. You make us proud and will continue to do so," he praised, stopping to wipe a tear that was slowly cascading down her delicate cheek. "I hate to do this too you, but it is either him or Garvan and I would rather walk on hot coals than see you marry that barbarian," his voice dripping with hatred at the very mention of Garvan. He shuddered as he thought of his Keela being in the fowl man's arms and instantly reached out to pull her close knowing that he had made the right choice.

Garvan was the son of King mac Neil of Tara, a rising clan that was no better than Saxon's in Keela's opinion. Garvan was just like his father: crude, selfish, arrogant and the very definition of evil. There were rumours that King mac Neil was planning on invading Britain and Keel knew that was the main reason for the alliance. Keela's clan was not only the largest but the closest to the British shores and her father shared a relationship with the former Woad leader, Merlin. They had always been close allies and now with the new King, Merlin had thought it best to form a real alliance and in order to do that, it had to be through marriage. Since Arthur allied the Woads by marrying their Princess, the next to the throne was to marry.

Keela straightened herself as she pulled away from her father and sucked in a deep breath to clear her mind. She will make her father, her family and her people proud. She understood her duty but it didn't mean she had to like it, a point she was going to make very clear. "I understand father but I still don't like it. I can not guarantee I will love the man but I will try…anything is better than Garvan. If you say he is honourable then I believe you," she said softly trying to convince herself more than anything.

King Finchad beamed at his daughter and pulled her to him again, kissing her hair as he held her in their home one last time.

Lancelot wouldn't look at any of them and continued to have a new found fascination with the silver goblet clutched far to tightly in his calloused hand, his jaw clenched and muscles twitching in an attempt to keep the raging demon at bay while the others discussed his future.

Arthur shifted nervously in his seat as he glanced at a seething Lancelot. "When are they to arrive?" he asked, the colour of his face slowly fading as he hated himself for being the cause of Lancelot's pain. If there was another option, another way, he would not hesitate to have taken it, but sadly there wasn't.

Merlin sat at the other end of the table, his head resting on his palm, a finger tapping an aged, chiselled cheek. He looked at Arthur then to a brooding Lancelot who had been everything but cooperative throughout this entire ordeal. He thought the young man reflected a spoiled, selfish child who was not getting his way and it infuriated him. The Knight had no respect in his mind…well, he knew that was an extreme exaggeration, but at the moment that was how he felt. "They shall arrive on the morrow," he answered returning his attention to Arthur who was acting as if he had sentenced his first Knight to death. Merlin scuffed at how ridiculous all this was.

Arthur sighed and smiled slightly when Guinevere squeezed his hand for encouragement. Lancelot had been livid with them for the arranged marriage to the Irish princess. He had gone so far as to threaten to leave Camelot and return to Sarmatia if the arrangement was not broken. It had taken a month for Arthur to calm him down and another for him and all the Knights to convince Lancelot that it was in the best interest of Camelot, for all of Britain. They had guilt him into it, all knew it, but it was the only way.

"What does she look like?"

All heads turned to Galahad who only shrugged innocently. "Well it is a legitimate question? We don't know anything about her, what if she looks like a toad?" he said in defence to all the shocked stares he was receiving. He was actually attempting to lighten the thick tension in the room, but judging by the glares he was receiving, especially from Guinevere, he knew that his words were not perhaps welcome, at least not how he worded them he concluded wincing at how it must have sounded.

Gawain's hand shot out and smacked Galahad on the back of the head jolting it forward. "Not a good time for such questions," he growled under his breath to the younger man, ignoring the dark scowl he received in return. He understood Galahad's attempt, but being tactful was not usually one of Galahad's strongest qualities.

Lancelot paled having thought that over plenty of times. It was one thing to be forced into marriage, but if she was as ugly as they come, there was no way he was going through with it. He didn't care about duty or honour or Britain, for if he was being forced to marry she had better be pleasant to look. If not, he was saddling his horse and heading straight for Sarmatia. He would not go through life married to a 'toad'. He didn't care if he sounded shallow, he knew he was to a degree, but everyone drew a line somewhere.

"Galahad, looks aren't everything," Guinevere scolded, her dark eyes narrowing in on the young Knight who gave her a sheepish look.

Galahad gave another half shrugged as Merlin chuckled actually appreciating the question. No one had asked about Keela and he had found it unusual. "I have not seen Keela in many years but when I did see her, she was a beautiful thing. Her twin brother is the eye of many ladies and Keela has had countless marriage offers," he informed with a smile on his face as he thought of the young girl he had met so many years ago. His grin only grew as each of them stared at him with blank expressions, except for Guinevere who had an excited smile on her face. He knew his daughter was looking forward to a female companion who was close to her age.

Lancelot scoffed not at all affected by the praise the old Woad was giving the Princess. He didn't care what he thought. "And why then am I forced to marry her when there are plenty of wanting men out there?" he asked speaking for the first time, the anger evident in his voice as his fingers now played with the sleeve of his black tunic in an attempt to calm himself.

Merlin again just stared at the first Knight who was glaring murder at Arthur, his gaze only softening when it settled on Guinevere. He knew the turmoil the Knight suffered from, many did. Lancelot's supposed feelings for the Queen had not gone unnoticed by the Shaman and he only hopped that Keela could win his tortured heart. "That is not for me to say," he lied. He knew why, he knew all about Keela, but he felt it was her duty to tell, not his.

This only seemed to infuriate Lancelot all the more as he clenched his jaw and glared again at Arthur who only gave him a weak smile in return. It was plainly evident to all in the room that the Knight was soon going to kill someone; it was a toss up between Arthur and Merlin at this point.

"Well…" Arthur said, his tone light, as he cleared his throat and leaning forward, his arms resting on the table, "I am sure she is lovely and we will welcome her and the King when they arrive." He pointed his gaze at Lancelot indicating that no matter how the Knight felt, he would be respectful. The threat King Finchad had made should his daughter be mistreated echoed in his ears. He understood really, what father wouldn't react the same way. He knew he certainly would.

Grumbling in anger and meeting Arthur's look with a glare that would make demons cower, he shoved his chair back with such force it toppled to the ground as he strolled out of the council room, the double oak doors banging loudly as he exited with every intent on getting piss drunk.

Bors only shook his head with a chuckle and took another swig of his wine; he enjoyed watching the younger Knight fret. He himself actually pitied the poor lass for it wasn't an unknown fact that Lancelot was not a one woman man and being a father himself, he felt for the situation she was being forced into. "Well, this should be exciting," he mused before bringing his goblet up to his mouth for another swig.

_Okay, let me know what you all think. _


	2. Chapter 2

_All I have to say is, wow!__ Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed. I wasn't sure if this story would take off so well, but yeah me. So, since you all were wonderful enough to take the time to review, I have updated quicker. _

_One more thing, I forgot to mention this is set three years after the battle at Badon Hill. Now, I know that it is not 'humanly' possible for Camelot to be up and running as well as I portray it, but oh well… it does in my mind at the moment. _

The pleasant chirping of various birds, the soft creaking of trees swaying in the breeze along with the sounds of the travelling caravan were all that could be heard as the group approached Camelot. The warriors accompanying the royal family could easily see the stress oozing from their beloved leaders and were sensible enough to know that now was certainly not the time to talk.

Keela sat atop her white stallion Mona, her large white head bobbing slightly as she took tentative steps along the unfamiliar path. The path that was leading Keela to her new home, a new life she was being forced to live and change for. She was still fuming about the verbal lashings she had been forced to endure since she had left her home. 'Lashings' might have been a strong word but that's what it felt like to her. Being told for the past week how to act, what to say and certainly what not to say, how to walk, how to sit, what to wear and unbelievably how to eat was just too much for her. Apparently this was how a 'Lady' was supposed to act. She already knew all of this. She had been taught as soon as she left the womb how a Lady should act, but she had also been taught how to live the life of a man and it was easy to see which life she preferred to live. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy being a woman; on the contrary, she appreciated many of her teachings. The problem was that she had been privileged enough to lead both lives and now she was being told that she couldn't and had to be the perfect 'Lady'.

Keela had come to terms with the situation she was being forced into. She had done her best to learn as much as possible about her new home and the people she would be surrounded by. She was pleasantly surprised to learn that King Arthur and Queen Guinevere were just and fair rulers and well loved by their people. Keela had instantly respected the King when she learned he was a wholesome Christian who supported his wife's and Knights Pagan beliefs.

She had also learned many things about the Knights, their reputations being quite legendary, and looked forward to meeting them. But what really shocked her was the tale of how they became Knights. Being forced from their homeland at such young ages and forced to fight Rome's cause, had made Keela physically sick and hate the Romans all the more for feeling they had the power to do such things. The one and only thing that did trouble her, made her doubt herself, was the talk of Lancelot. She had learned that he was supposedly the most handsome of men and could charm anything with breasts, and that was apparently coming straight from the horse's mouth.

Her thoughts were interrupted when a familiar throat cleared from the carriage wheeling next her. "Keela, you must not arrive on horseback, it is improper," Fiona scolded, her eyes scanning Mona with disapproval.

This was why Keela was ridding Mona to begin with. She had been primped to supposed perfection far too early that morning and then had been forced to endure Fiona frantically going over proper conduct one last time. When Keela was sure she was going to end either her surrogate mother's life or her own, she had fled the carriage to a very happy Mona.

She loved Fiona and knew that the older woman was only concerned about Keela's well being, but there was only so much the young Princess could take and that line had been crossed two days into their journey. Fiona had raised Keela and Fallon from babes when their mother had died in childbirth and the older woman had become more Keela's mother than the anything else. She had been given the option to stay in Leinster but was determined to stay with Keela and for that the Irish Princess was beyond pleased and forever grateful.

Fallon, who was ridding on the other side of Keela, snickered as his sister rolled her eyes and looked skywards obviously in an attempt to control her fragile temper. He had been attached to Keela since they left and although he found it thoroughly amusing watching Keela pout when it came to her duties as a Lady, he was having a hard time seeing her so distressed.

Keela took a deep breath and turned her gaze back to Fiona. "Fiona, I will arrive however I see fit," she replied, her tone telling Fiona that the woman was not to question her. She would embrace her last moments of freedom and that was the end of it.

Fiona scoffed used to the tone and unaffected by it. "If it was your way, you would arrive in your battle garb, swords strapped to your back," she said knowingly in an annoyed tone, her head resting on the palm of her hand as she propped it up on the window ledge.

Keela chuckled since it was very true and flashed a cheeky grin. "We can always arrange that you know," she said leaning over and wiggling her eyebrows at Fiona. "I am sure my betrothed would love to see just how 'Ladylike' I can be," she added mockingly.

Fiona rolled her eyes. "You are an insufferable child," she grumbled, although happy that her Princess' mood was lightening.

Keela and Fallon just looked at each other then burst into laughter catching the attention of King Finchad and the other warriors, each man's lips curling in amusement as they watched the two siblings lean onto each other as they laughed.

"Keela, must you torment her?" King Finchad asked from the front of the line, his voice dripping with amusement though his heart was constricting with pain knowing that this was to be the last time they were all to interact like this. It was never a usual day unless Keela and Fallon were teasing or tormenting Fiona in some way, their laughter echoing the palace walls as the older woman screamed at them although secretly loving every minute of it.

Keela straightened herself and wiped a happy tear that escaped from the corner of her eye. "Why yes, I believe I must," she replied with a grin as Fiona once again rolled her eyes, though a grin plastered on her face.

Fallon chuckled and was about to add his own retort but clamped his mouth shut when they immerged from the forest and took in the sight of a growing Camelot, his head immediately shooting over to Keela who had suddenly sobered and lost all colour in her already pale face. He reached over and grabbed her hand having hared her breath hitch and held on firmly as she crushed it in a vice-like grip.

Keela's eyes were wide as she scanned the scene before her. Never had she actually imagined Camelot being this beautiful. A large castle sat atop a hill that was surrounded by a growing village, a vast river curved around the City with a long drawbridge that led right up to the large walls that protected the inhabitants. Cattle grazed happily in the far distance, their bodies appearing liked multicoloured dots against the lush green landscape. "It's beautiful," she whispered in awe as she soaked in the sight before her.

Fallon nodded in agreement, his voice suddenly seeming incapable of working as reality hit him with such force it physically hurt. He looked around them and noticed they were falling behind but didn't care. He wasn't ready to give her up yet. Feeling as if he were being ridiculous, he took a deep breath and clutched Keela's hand tighter and looked at her from the corner of his eye. Her eyes were darting back and forth taking in everything and her face had regained some of it's colour as she smiled at the beauty around her. She would be happy here and would live a good life. It wasn't as if they were never going to see each other again. He told himself that things could be worse; she could be farther away or even marrying Garvan for that matter. He had to be strong for her since the next few days were no doubt going to take a serious toll on her and she would need him more than ever. Squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin slightly, he moved his horse closer to Mona and continued to hold Keela's hand as they made their way through the village to the castle, the many townspeople stopping their activities to stare and whisper, the odd finger pointed in their direction.

Lancelot fidgeted next to Arthur and scowled with his King nudged him in the ribs. "Calm down," Arthur whispered as his eyes remained fixed on the approaching caravan.

Lancelot scuffed and glared hard at his friend. "Don't tell me to calm down. I would like to see how you feel should the roles be reversed," he hissed, his eyes blazing. She was coming and it was all he could do not to spin around and bolt. He knew Arthur suspected he might do something along those lines which was probably why he was standing so close to him. Bastard he grumbled to himself.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "You forget I was where you are," he replied, a smile slowly appearing on his face as the group got closer.

Lancelot raised an incredulous eyebrow. "You forget you actually knew and loved her," he growled, his eyes daring Arthur to continue the conversation.

"Oh look, here they come," Gawain interrupted in an attempt to end the two's bickering. He sympathized with Lancelot, he really did. But Lancelot had agreed to be become a Prince and therefore the responsibilities that came with it, and yet they had heard nothing but bitching and moaning from the man for months and he was damn near sick of it. He honestly thought he was worse than Galahad, and that was really saying something.

Lancelot grumbled under his breath and didn't bother to hide the scowl that graced his face as he shut his mouth and watched the caravan enter the castle courtyard. The man leading the group was obviously the King. He was huge in height and size and had long black curly hair with an equally curly black beard. He had a broadsword strapped to his hip, wore a black, green and red Kilt and had a black leather tunic under his long black cape that was held together with various gold and silver clasps. He wore a silver coronet adorned with black, red and green stones, all equal in size. All in all, Lancelot couldn't help but be thankful he had never met the man in battle.

"I am glad we are not fighting him," Galahad whispered to Bors having made the same deduction. "He looks bigger than Dagonet," he added in awe as the man dismounted and was greeted by Merlin, Arthur and Guinevere close behind him.

Dagonet having heard the younger Knight from his position next to Bors chuckled. He did agree though, the man was indeed a giant.

Tristan just grunted in approval admitting that the man, along with the many warriors, all looked as if they would be amiable swordsmen.

"Merlin old friend, how are you?" King Finchad genuinely asked as he clasped arms with the old Woad.

Merlin inclined his head to the Irish King and smiled. "I am well. I trust your journey was peaceful?" he asked. There were still many Saxon's wandering the land causing havoc and it was not always safe to travel.

King Finchad smiled and shrugged lazily. "We intercepted a few Saxon's, but nothing we couldn't handle," he replied as if it were in fact 'nothing' while he glanced behind Merlin to where Arthur and Guinevere stood waiting for introductions.

Lancelot could hardly pay attention to the King as his eyes remained focused on the carriage, the carriage that held his soon-to-be wife. He had never been this anxious, furious, scared, and surprisingly excited all at once and his body was soon going to shake with anticipation. He was convinced this was some scheme to torture him, prolong it as long as possible. Some sick higher power was taking great pleasure in his misery, he was sure of it.

Merlin followed the King's gaze and moved slightly to the side, his arm outstretched towards Arthur and Guinevere. "King Arthur of Britain, I present King Finchad mac Garchon of Leinster," he introduced with a proud smile on his face.

Arthur and Finchad both inclined their heads to the other and shook hands. "It is an honour to meet you King Finchad. I am sorry that you encountered our enemies while travelling our land," he said honestly unnerved. He had wanted to send their own escort but King Finchad had written saying it was unnecessary and they were more than capable of travelling on their own.

King Finchad chuckled and waved a hand dismissing the apology. "I am honoured to meet the famous King of Britain, and do not apologize; we at least ridded you of a few unwanted pests," he said earning a chuckle from everyone in the courtyard.

Arthur smiled with a grateful nod, pleased at how easygoing the King was, and turned, placing his hand on Guinevere's lower back guiding her forward. "May I present my wife, Queen Guinevere," he introduced lovingly, his eyes convening such as he looked upon her.

King Finchad smiled warmly at the young Queen and took her delicate hand as she curtsied and applied a gentle kiss on her knuckles. "It is a pleasure to meet you milady," he said as he straightened.

Guinevere smiled and instantly liked the King. She just hopped his daughter was as equally pleasant. "As am I milord. I hope none of your men were injured?" she asked worriedly, her eyes scanning the men who stood in a protective circle around the carriage.

King Finchad shook his head. "No injuries milady," he replied then looked behind the King and Queen, his eyes landing on who he knew to be Lancelot who still had a dark look on his face.

Arthur cleared his throat and extended his hand to where all the Knights stood and proceeded to introduce each one, his gaze landing lastly on the one man who was not making any attempt to hide his unhappiness. "And may I present Prince of Camelot, first Knight and your future son-in-law, Sir Lancelot," he introduced, his face flashing a warning look that only Lancelot and the other Knights could see.

Lancelot inwardly sighed while taking a deep breath as he stepped forward and bowed to King Finchad. "My Lord," he addressed with no emotion while attempting to soften his features.

King Finchad just stood there staring at the Knight. He was not at all affected by the brooding manner. It was the look in Lancelot's eyes that confirmed he was in fact a fine man. They were passionate and full of emotion, just like his Keela's. He stood tall and confident and looked to be a man of honour. He was confident this man would not mistreat his Keela and that she would not be displeased. "Sir Knight, I have heard many wonderful tales of you…all of you actually," he said warmly, an equally warm smile on his face as he moved to scan the other Knights who had puffed their chests out at the compliment.

Lancelot couldn't help but smile feeling at ease with the older man and nodded, his eyes darting behind the King then back with an eyebrow raised in question.

King Finchad chuckled having read the look. "I suppose you are anxious to meet your wife," he stated before surprising everyone when he moved and nudged Lancelot. "I know I was when I met her mother; almost split in two I did from being so nervous," he chuckled with a glazed over look in his eyes as he no doubt recalled the mother of his children.

Lancelot, along with everyone else's, eyes widened only causing the King to roar with laughter, everyone immediately following suite as his infectious laughter echoed throughout the courtyard.

King Finchad clapped Lancelot on the shoulder, his body slightly jolting forward under the unintended force. "Do not look so displeased Sir Knight. I am sure you and my daughter will have a very pleasant marriage," he reassured with a wink before turning to face the caravan, a frown forming when he couldn't see his daughter. "Fiona, has my daughter run off already?" he asked approaching the carriage and helping a middle-aged, pleasant looking woman out, her beauty instantly causing Dagonet's jaw to slightly drop and surprising both Bors and Tristan who stood next to him.

Fiona smiled at the party staring at her before she looked at her King with a mock scowl. "And you would be surprised?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Lancelot flashed Arthur a curious look, his King only shrugging but enjoying the light atmosphere. He knew the Irish King could see Lancelot's unhappiness, even a blind man could see, and he was only grateful the older King was taking it surprisingly well.

Keela had remained out of view with Fallon on the other side of the carriage willing the butterflies in her stomach to calm down. Taking a deep breath realizing the time had come for her to reveal herself, she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, raising her chin ever so slightly. She had already manoeuvred to sit side-saddle and smoothed out her gown before she turned to her brother. "I don't care what the rumours say, if he is hideous and fat, I am going to kill you," she hissed as she clicked her tongue for Mona to move forward, Fallon chuckling behind her and following suite.

"Father," Keela said softly as their men all moved for her to come into view, each of them inclining their heads with a warm smile as she passed.

Lancelot could only blink. She was nothing like he had pictured. She was a vision. Her long blond hair was in perfect ringlets down her back with the upper half pinned stylishly around her silver coronet that was similar to her father's but thinner and only had three stones, one of each colour whereas his went all the way around. Her skin screamed smooth and perfect and Lancelot found his hands itching to touch it. He, however, was captivated by her eyes. They seemed to be woodland eyes, a mixture of brown and green. She had a long, elegant neck; small nose; full, red lips and high, delicate cheek bones. He held his breath as her father helped her off her impeccable steed. She was tall and had a body he was sure he was going to appreciate. She wore a simple yet elegant light green ridding gown that was embroidered with black and red stitching, had a high neck and long, tight sleeves. It was fitted all around her body and flared out just at her hips. She was the definition of beautiful and Lancelot's mouth instantly went dry as his body reacted to her beauty.

Keela let her father help her off Mona and felt all breath leave her body as she looked at the man she knew to be Lancelot. He was at least a head taller than her, and she was tall for an Irish woman. He wore black leather trousers with black shinny boots; he had a black tunic that was covered with a black sleeveless leather jerkin that had beautiful silver and gold stitching and showed off his obviously built body. His mop of perfect curls complimented his sharp, handsome features that were set off by a set of piercing dark brown eyes. He had a thin beard outlining his jaw and an equally thin goatee that only accentuated his dark eyes. She had never seen a more handsome man.

"Well she certainly is no toad," Galahad whispered, his eyes appreciatively scanning her body. The others hear him and only nodded all thinking the same thing. Lancelot certainly was a lucky bastard.

King Finchad held his daughter's hand firmly and watched with a knowing smile as the two stared at each other as if they were the only two alive; he was pleased to say the least. "My daughter Princess Keela mac Garchon and my son Prince Fallon mac Garchon," he introduced with fatherly pride, his arm waving out behind Keela to the tall man who looked exactly like Keela and stood protectively next to her.

"Twins?" Arthur asked looking at the two blond siblings and moving to shake the young man's hand. Merlin had mentioned that Keela was a twin but it was amazing to see. He had never met identical twins and was fascinated.

King Finchad nodded proudly. "That they are," he replied looking his children over with nothing but love and affection. "And they look nothing like me," he added with a mock pout, his shoulders slightly slouching.

"Thank the Gods," Fallon teased with a smirk, ducking as his father's large hand that had extended past Keela in an attempt to smack him upside the head.

The group all chuckled at the ease of the family as Merlin stepped forward and took Keela's hand from her father. "It has been many years child and your beauty has only grown," he said softly before bending to kiss her knuckles.

Keela smiled up at the old Shaman and curtsied. "It is good to see you Merlin," she replied, genuinely pleased to see him. She had always liked Merlin. The few months that he had spent with her family when she was younger were quite memorable to her. The Woad leader had been more than willing to teach her everything he knew about healing and had been the one to teach her how to shoot a bow.

Merlin grinned then shook hands with Fallon and stepped aside, his hand once again extended to Arthur and Guinevere. "King Arthur and my daughter, Queen Guinevere," he introduced, said couple stepping forward and smiling warmly at the siblings.

"Welcome to Camelot Lady Keela, we hope you will be happy in our City," Arthur said fondly after kissing her knuckles.

Keela polity curtsied to the King and Queen and smiled warmly instantly liking the pair. They were the definition of King and Queen with their beautiful, refined and strong looks, and held an air about them that instantly drew you in. It was plainly evident that the stories about the couple were true. "Your City and country are lovely. I am sure I will be very happy here," she replied with half truth. Everything was beautiful but the happy part she still wasn't so sure about.

Guinevere beamed; her excitement at having a new female companion barely kept tame. "It will be nice to have another Lady around. There are far too many men for my liking," she teased having sensed the younger woman's pain. She couldn't entirely sympathize with the younger woman. Yes, her marriage was arranged, but she and Arthur already loved each other.

Arthur rolled his eyes and Keela chuckled. "I understand. I grew up around men and know they can grow quite…tiresome," she replied grateful at the Queen's attempts to ease the situation. She had a feeling that she and the Queen were going to be great friends and this instantly made Keela feel slightly more at ease.

The Knights all beamed at her jest and got the feeling this Irish Princess was going to fit in perfectly.

"Ahem," Fallon coughed in mock outrage from next to Keela, his eyebrows raised in protest. He nudged his sister when she shrugged and took Guinevere's hand, bowing as he kissed her knuckles. "Just wait until you have to spend an entire day with her, you will be ready to ship her home," he retorted as he stood straight, his eyes dancing with mirth at the scowl on said sister's face while the group once again laughed.

King Finchad rolled his eyes and grabbed Keela's hand and moved her to where Lancelot still stood staring. "Sir Lancelot, I am very pleased to present to you Lady Keela," he introduced and moved aside while giving Keela a gentle nudge when she didn't move from her place next to him.

Keela gave Lancelot a weak smile as he bowed and she curtsied. She hated to curtsy and was sick of it already. "My lord," she murmured as their eyes met.

Lancelot just stared into the most unusually beautiful eyes and found himself suddenly comparing her beauty to that of Guinevere's. Whereas Guinevere was tall and dark, Keela was tall and light. Her golden hair, fair skin and fairer eyes were in complete contrast to Guinevere's darker appearance. He couldn't help it as his eyes wandered to said Queen who was introducing Fallon to the rest of the Knights. He looked back at Keela and felt his insides constrict with anger…she was not Guinevere. "My Lady, I hope your encounter with the Saxons did not frighten you," he said dryly, his eyes not meeting her own.

Keela frowned. She had noticed the look he flashed to the Queen. She had watched as his eyes darted away from her then return with a look of pure loathing. But what really got her blood boiling was the fact that he insinuated she was frightened by a few Saxons. It wasn't his fault really. It was only typical to assume that a 'Lady' of stature would be frightened by such things. She was not one of those Ladies. Annoyed with his tone and his lack of chivalry, she was about to open her mouth when her father cleared his throat from behind. Clenching her jaw, Keela gave a small nod. "I thank you for your concern," she replied forcefully.

Lancelot nodded as if board and extended his arm. "I trust you are tired from your journey and will show you to your room. There is an engagement feast prepared this evening giving you ample time to rest," he exclaimed once again not looking at her.

Keela could hear the distain in his voice and for some reason she felt her heart drop. Was she really that much of a disappointment? She had noticed he was pleased with her appearance, as she was his. She was not thrilled about this marriage but she was at least willing to try. From the cold shoulder she was receiving, she got the distinct impression he was not, at least not at the moment. Nodding in resolve and letting out a disappointed sigh, she took his outstretched arm and allowed him to lead her wordlessly through the castle.

_Sooo, what do you think of their meeting?__ I know there seems like a lot of talking, but it sets the precedent. _


	3. Chapter 3

_Okay, whatever you do, don't hate me. I am so, so sorry that it has taken me so long to update but I have been pressed for time. Now, it took me __awhile to get this chapter just right and I hope I did so make sure all you wonderful people let me know what you think. _

_Also, __I want to point out that I may, well most likely will, here and there make spelling and grammar mistakes and I apologize._

_So, with all that being said, here is a nice long chapter for you. _

"He certainly is handsome," Fiona chirped as she pinned Keela's golden curls around her coronet.

Keela just stared blankly ahead once again tuning out the older woman's incessant chatter. Actually, she had hardly heard a word Fiona had said the entire afternoon, only nodding when needed in order to keep up the false pretence she was somewhat interested in what was being said. She was a wreck. She had 'rested' after Lancelot left her, then informed by Fiona that the wedding was to take place the following day at sunset, and to make matters worse, her father and brother had added that they would be returning home the following morning after the wedding. Needless to say, it was a good thing she was sitting down for she knew she would have collapsed if standing.

She felt hallow, void of all her surroundings, and still completely unaware of what Fiona was babbling on about. All she could do was stare at her reflection while she sat motionless in front of the vanity, her head occasionally cocking to the side as Fiona continued to pin her blond curls. She wore an off the shoulder red satin gown with long fitted sleeves that flared out slightly at her wrists. The bodice was snug, the neck line revealing a modest view of her breasts, and was outlined with black and gold stitching that followed down the centre of her sleeves. It was plain but elegant, just how Keela liked it. Her eyes were brushed with a dark powder to accentuate the unusual colour of her eyes. She did find her appearance appealing but on the inside she was a disaster.

Here she was being primped and all she could think about was the mess her life had become. She had instantly felt her stomach twist upon seeing the man she was to spend the rest of her life with. He was devilishly handsome, as if the Gods had actually had a hand in creating such a perfect being. At least in his features anyway. She was surprised that she felt hurt when he completely disregarded her. She was chastising herself for caring so much already only having met the man mere moments before, but she couldn't deny the warm sensation that consumed her body when he had touched her or when he looked into her eyes, it was almost surreal.

"Have you heard a word I have said child?" Fiona asked breaking Keela's thoughts as she pinned the last curl to Keela's head. She gazed over her masterpiece and smiled proudly at her work, she had always thought Keela's hair was beautiful when it was all pinned. Keela was a beautiful young woman and although Fiona did not necessarily always agree with the life she led in Ireland, she was more than pleased with the woman her young charge had become; but as she really focused in on the young beauty, she could see something different in her princess; her eyes seemed to be losing the spark that was normally present and she felt her face fall at seeing Keela so unhappy.

Frowning, Fiona moved to Keela's side and crouched next to the young woman who she thought of as a daughter. "He doesn't want me," Keela whispered to the older woman surprising them both at the confession.

Fiona sighed sadly and rested her hands atop of Keela's that were clutched tightly in her lap. "My dear, he does not know you. You must give him time," she soothed in her motherly tone, her thumbs rubbing over Keela's knuckles.

Keela looked up from their hands and gazed at Fiona, her blank expression suddenly becoming hard with anger. "How can he know me when all everyone tells me is not to do this or say that?" she hissed, her eyes narrowed challengingly.

Fiona shook her head in understanding; Keela had a point there. "You have had a very free life with your father and Fallon. You have not had to endure what most women in your position do." She put her hand up for silence when Keela raised a mocking eyebrow and began to open her mouth. "Your life was just different; you led the life of a man and at times a Lady. Woman of any rank, despite not having to go into battle, have it just as hard if not worse. Many men do not accept women warriors or women with a mind. You cannot speak unless spoken to, cannot fight, and you certainly cannot exp—,"

Keela scuffed angrily as she flung Fiona's hands away and stood, her chin raised and eyes defiant as she moved to the centre of the room and gazed at Fiona while the older woman stood. "I will not! I absolutely refuse to be a snivelling housewife who only serves to please her husband and bear his children. I refuse to allow a man to speak for me, think for me and fight for me. I will not stand by and be used, that I assure you Fiona," she snipped, her tone strong and firm leaving no doubt in Fiona's mind that this Lancelot was in for a serious wake up.

She had noticed the looks the Knight had flashed the Queen and then Keela. He was comparing the two. Being a woman of her age meant she was able to read things quicker and it was no doubt in her mind that the dark Knight harboured romantic feelings for the lovely Queen. She had also seen the way he had looked at Keela and knew he found her mistress to be lovely, all men did; but she had a feeling he was going to resent Keela simply for the fact he couldn't have who he wanted and was being forced to marry. That was what worried her.

A loud knocking on the door brought the two women out of their moment and Fiona moved to open the door while Keela quickly calmed her breathing.

Lancelot's mouth slightly dropped when he caught sight of Keela as she stood tall and confident before him. Her red gown fit her like a glove and he actually found himself wondering if the gown made her more beautiful or if she made it more beautiful. His eyes roamed slowly up her body and when he met her eyes, he cocked his head slightly to the side immediately noticing the change in them. She had a look that screamed powerful, confident and Lancelot found himself unable to tear his gaze away, they were just too intense. She certainly did not look like this earlier.

Fiona smiled at the Knight as she watched him gaze at her mistress. "I take it you are here to escort Lady Keela to dinner?" she asked, her voice laced with amusement. This Knight will only be able to fight himself for so long she thought to herself.

Keela took a deep breath as the appearance of Lancelot instantly brought butterflies to her stomach. He was still wearing all black but he had a high neck tunic under a waved leather vest and fine leather breeches with shiny boots. He also had a thin, plain silver coronet rimmed with gold signifying his princely status. Her mouth immediately went dry forcing her to swallow deeply as her body started to tingle knowing this man was going to be her husband. She was pleased at the look on Lancelot's face when he gazed at her, pleased that she had that effect on him, and it only made her flutter more. Sadly though, as soon as Fiona's voice registered, it was as if he snapped and the tender look on his face vanished into an emotionless mask.

Lancelot shook his head and nodded to Fiona. "I am, it is only proper that I escort her," he replied looking at anything other than Keela. He had spent part of the afternoon overseeing the move of her belongings and then had spent the remainder of the afternoon with Arthur, Merlin, the Knights and King Finchad and Fallon going over the final details pertaining to the treaty between Camelot and Leister. Despite the afternoon's events, they did absolutely nothing to distract his thoughts from the Irish beauty that was to be his wife and he was exhausted of her already.

Fiona frowned as did Keela at the mention of 'her' as if she were the bearer of death. Sighing dejectedly, Keela deducted that he was determined to be difficult and only hopped that it didn't last their entire marriage. Not wanting to wallow in self-pity, she once again lifted her chin slightly and squared her shoulders as she took graceful steps and accepted Lancelot's offered arm with a small smile before following him out of her chambers, a fuming Fiona trailing a few paces behind while grumbling under her breath about selfish Knights and their behaviour.

Giving Keela a reassuring nod as they reached the double doors that would lead into the dinning hall, Fiona scurried through and made her way to inform Finchad and Arthur that the Prince and Princess were ready to be announced. She actually had half a mind to voice her serious doubts about this marriage but bit her tongue at the last moment. Lancelot hadn't said more than two words to Keela as he led them to the feast, only answering her attempts to conversation with curt, short replies. It had broke her heart to watch Keela's shoulders slump ever so slightly in a sign of defeat, and that was something the Princess had never done in her life and Fiona knew it was all their fault.

"People of Camelot," Arthur's clear voice rang out in the large room causing all in attendance to immediately silence as they waited for their King to continue. "My wife, Knights, and I are pleased to introduce to you Prince and First Knight, Lancelot of Camelot and his betrothed and future Princess of Camelot, Princess Keela mac Garchon daughter of King Finchad mac Garchon of Liester!" His hand motioned to the two guards situated on either side of the large double oak doors for them to admit the Prince and Princess.

Keela took a deep breath and plastered a small smile on her face as the doors swung opened and she was led slowly through the silent crowed consisting of the entire noble court and then some. She was use to stares, use to such feasts, use to being presented as such, but she was not use to these feelings and the looks of scrutiny and uncertainty she was receiving from majority of the occupants of the room. She actually thought she received a few scowls from the female occupants and absentmindedly tightened her grip on Lancelot's arm.

King Finchad and Fallon stood with their men from across the King and Queen and beamed at Keela only to have their smiles slowly fade when they saw the fake look on her face. They had noticed the lifeless tone the Knight had used when addressing her earlier that day and had hoped that perhaps he would have warmed up to the idea of marrying her for she was after all every man's dream wife; however, it was painfully apparent that the Knight continued to show no indication of being pleased with her.

"She does not look happy," King Finchad whispered to Fallon as Lancelot slowly led Keela towards them.

Fallon turned to his father not bothering to hide his glare. "What did you think? The Knight was as cold as ice in greeting her and judging by the looks of things, has not changed. Did you think it was going to be all sunshine and rainbows for her? This is going to kill her," his hissed angrily causing King Finchad to glare at his son.

"You will bite your tongue boy. She is strong, she will make him happy…eventually," he snarled before walking off to meet Keela and Lancelot with Arthur hopping that the words he spoke would come true.

"Princess Keela, you are a vision of beauty," Arthur beamed as he kissed her hand once he approached the couple who had stopped a few feet from their table so Keela could be introduced to each of the Knights by Arthur and Lancelot.

Keela smiled at Arthur and inclined her head politely. "Thank you for your kind words, my King," she replied lifeless while giving him a small curtsy.

Arthur looked at her for a moment, a slight frown on his face. He was not offended by her tone but saddened by it. She sounded sad, defeated…almost lifeless. It was as if the old Tristan was talking to him, the one who was a slave to Rome. He swallowed hard as he wondered if that was how she felt...a slave to Lancelot, to Camelot.

King Finchad also frowned and flashed Lancelot a dark look which the Knight ignored already annoyed with the situation he was in. Not at all thinking about the consequences of his actions, Lancelot removed Keela's hand from his arm and walked off and took his place next to Arthur again ignoring the murderous looks he was receiving from every Irishman at the table.

The dinning hall instantly erupted with a number of gasps and murmurs as the Knight left her alone in the middle of the room and took his seat without her. Keela's eyes betrayed her as they reflected the hurt she felt at being abandoned but just as quickly as it was there it was gone and a look Arthur knew was not good appeared, another look that resembled Tristan's…emotionless, lifeless.

King Finchad looked nothing short of livid as he embraced his daughter and Arthur could only again be grateful that the King was no doubt a patient and understanding man. He did though make a mental note to seek out Lancelot later that evening and literally beat some sense into him. He turned his head slightly and narrowed his heated gaze at the Knight who sat ignoring Guinevere who was giving him a verbal lashing.

"Your mother would be a mess if she saw you now," King Finchad complimented warmly as he pulled away from his daughter and extended her hand to Arthur so he could introduce her to the Knights. It was all he could do to keep himself in check, keep himself from personally removing the arrogant Knight's head from his pathetic self, but he had to remain calm. He had to tell himself that it would work out and the hostile actions were understandable, considering the circumstances. Despite all this though, it was still insanely hard for him to see his daughter so unhappy. On thing every inhabitant of Ireland knew was that the King was not to be messed with when it came to his children. If someone so much as harmed a hair on their heads, murmured falsely against them, especially Keela, they were as good as dead.

Keela looked up at her father and smiled sadly at the mention of her mother. Unable to find her voice, she gave a pitiful nod before moving her gaze to Arthur and accepting his outstretched hand, his look one of warmth and sympathy instantly earning a small smile. Knowing that nothing could be said to ease her pain, Arthur placed her hand on his arm and gave it a pat as he led her over to where the Knights were all lined up waiting to meet her, each man clearly displeased with the behaviour of their First Knight but doing their best to be pleased with the newest addition to their court.

Oran nudged Fallon as they both watched Keele pick at her food as if it were dirt. "I cannot believe we are doing this," he hissed to his Prince during the evening meal. The two had watched as Keela had met each of the Knights with forced enthusiasm and were now again watching her as she sat ignored by her betrothed and looking as if the world had just come to an end.

Fallon sighed and wiped his mouth with his napkin before he pushed his plate forward no longer feeling hungry. "I know Oran, but what other option do we have?" He glanced up feeling eyes on him and inclined his head further to Oran. "Would you have preferred her to marry that other pompous ass?" he snipped.

Oran frowned and shook his head, anything was better than Garvan. The three of them had grown up together, constant companions, and although he knew the politics that were behind the marriage, it hurt him deeply to see her so unhappy. He loved Keela as if she were his own sister and wanted nothing more than to hear her laugh.

"Something you care to share?" King Finchad asked the two younger men having noticed the looks the King and Queen were flashing having heard parts of the conversation.

Fallon turned to his father and shook his head 'no', though all could clearly see the anger evident on his face, before he returned to his conversation with Oran.

Keela looked up at the sound of her father's voice and flashed Oran a smile when their eyes met before returning to looking around the large dinning hall. The dinning table to their right was where she assumed members of the council were seated with there respective others, the table to her left was where she assumed were the younger Knights and a few prominent members of society. Her table, well she didn't understand the reasoning behind such arrangements and wanted to have serious words with whatever imbecile had organized the seating. Currently she was seated next to her betrothed who had not acknowledged her existence as of yet and another Knight. There was another Knight next to the one on her right, both of whom were chatting adamantly about swords and whatnot, then another two Knights across from them who were barley speaking, just eating. Fiona was across from her followed by another woman and her husband who was the eldest Knight, then her father and Fallon, who sat across from the King and Queen, then Oran and their other high ranking warriors. Why she was placed here was beyond her but it annoyed her to no end. She wanted to be next to her father or Fallon, or at least the Queen. She shouldn't have been surprised she guessed. Guinevere was next to her father who was then surrounded by other Woad leaders and a few of her countrymen. Confused and sighing dejectedly, she continued to sit with elegance while picking at her food and wishing that she could be anywhere then where she currently was.

"You know, I hear it tastes as good as it looks."

Keela looked up startled at the man who sat next to her and couldn't help but smile at his childish grin. She knew him to be Galahad, the youngest Knight, though still older than her. He was without a doubt a handsome man, not like Lancelot's dark features, but in a boyish sort of way. "Do you now," she replied with a raised eyebrow when the man she recalled to be Gawain leaned over and winked forcing her lips to curl up on their own. The other two Knights who she had been introduced to as Tristan and Dagonet glanced at her briefly before returning to their silent eating.

"It is what they say," he replied taking a big bite from his chicken leg right in front of her as if prove his point. For a moment he regretted the gesture unsure if she would find it revolting but when her eyes sparkled and her lips started to curl forming a genuine smile, he couldn't help but beam with satisfaction. He liked her smile.

Keela then chuckled causing Galahad to turn to Gawain with a triumphant look on his face. They had both thought her to be lovely and had wanted to jump out of their chairs when Lancelot openly disrespected her, and still was. He hadn't said a thing to her the entire evening and it only infuriated the two Knights. Galahad had quickly decided that if Lancelot wasn't going to talk to her, he would.

"So, Lady Keela ho—," Galahad began.

Keela shifted her body to face the two Knights excited to have a conversation and shook her head holding up her hand. "Please, none of the Lady business," she requested already sick of it all this 'Lady' nonsense. She disliked titles; they made her feel as if she were somehow above everyone else.

Gawain raised an eyebrow and glanced briefly at Dagonet and Tristan who were looking at her with equal expressions of intrigue before looking back at the Irish Princess. "And why not?" he asked surprised that a noble woman would refuse her title.

Keela shrugged before she reached forward for her goblet. She caught sight of Fiona's disapproving look over the rim, the older woman knowing exactly what was about to happen, and flashed her a wink before taking a large gulp of sweet wine, ginning when the four Knights openly gawked at her with surprise. Woman did not gulp, they sipped. "That's why," she replied cheekily as she returned her goblet to the table, her gaze flickering to Fiona who only sighed disapprovingly before returning to the four faces who were still staring at her.

Suddenly, Galahad and Gawain roared with laughter catching the attention of the entire table, including Lancelot. "And what is so funny?" he asked finally turning and addressing Keela for the first time, surprised to actually see Tristan and Dagonet snickering.

Keela turned to face Lancelot slightly taken back at the sound of his voice and shook her head, her smile immediately leaving her face at his annoyed look. "Nothing," she replied dryly and lowering her head dutifully.

Lancelot's eyebrows rose as he looked to Gawain and Galahad who were looking at Keela with confusion then back at her. "I didn't know 'nothing' was so amusing," he retorted sarcastically annoyed with her reply.

Fiona sighed as she saw Keela clench her jaw. The young Princess was trying to restrain herself and Fiona could only hope it would work; although, a very large part of her doubted it.

Keela's head slowly turned to Lancelot although she refused to actually look at him. "Perhaps that is why," she rebuked before returning her attention to her plate. The entire table was staring at the two and she did not want to cause a scene.

Lancelot cocked his head to the side clearly irritated that she was ignoring him. "Why do you not look at me when you speak?" he asked unable to stop once the words left his mouth. He knew he didn't deserve her attention, he had openly disrespected her. The problem was that he didn't like what he was feeling, how his body was reacting just by the sight of her let alone to her touching him or even being so close he could feel her. It was making him insanely uncomfortable and he was determined not to have feelings for this woman. He loved Guinevere and although he could and would never have her, he knew that he would never love another. He didn't want to because he wanted her.

Here we go Fiona thought to herself as she saw Keela's patience diminish.

Keela's head snapped up, the look of annoyance on her beautiful features surprising the entire table. "Why should I?" she asked forcefully while raising a questioning eyebrow, all previous instructions of how a Lady should act forgotten. She didn't care what anyone said, she would not be talked down to, would not settle for being treated as if she were nothing better than cattle.

Lancelot gave her a dark look that would have put the fiercest of warriors into submission but to his astonishment, she remained indifferent. This only infuriated him more. "Because I was talking to you; I will be your husband and will not have you look away when I am addressing to you," he replied sternly in a tone that meant she was to comply.

The entire table took in a deep breath and Oran was not sure if he was going to have to prevent Finchad or Fallon from striking the Knight down. Frankly, knowing Keela, he was more worried about her killing the Knight. Actually, as images of her killing the ridiculous man with her bare hands flashed before his eyes, he couldn't contain his smrik. Yes, he would actually pay to see that.

Lancelot's eyes widened when Keela's nostrils flared in rage. "You listen to me you arrogant Knight," she hissed as her whole body turning to face him, her elbow resting on the table as she pointed a long finger in his face, "you have not earned my respect nor do you deserve it. I will show you the same curtsy you show me which so far has been nothing worthy of a pig; so do not play the husband card with me for it will not work," she retorted, her tone firm and solid, her chin slightly raised daring him to argue with her.

Half the table blinked surprised at her outburst while the other half, the half that knew the Princess, did nothing to suppress their proud smiles.

Lancelot was stunned and for once, unsure of how to react. She was right, he knew that, but women never talked to him like this…well, unless you were Guinevere or Vanora, but she was neither of them. He didn't know whether to yell at her or kiss her for he found her beyond beautiful when angry. Realising though he was being made a fool of in front of the entire table and half of the noble court, his eyes blazed in anger. His shoulders tensed and his mouth was opening to reply when Arthur cleared his throat loudly.

"Lancelot that is enough," he warned, his tone promising Lancelot that he was no doubt going to be subjected to a lecture later.

Lancelot had ignored her for the remained of the evening along with anyone who was remotely close to her. Keela was hurt by their argument. She was not sorry for the words she had said, in fact she had plenty more to say, but she felt sick having started a marriage off with her betrothed hating her.

She did get to know the Queen better though and found the woman's company quite exhilarating. After Guinevere had led her around introducing her to various Woad advisors, council membors, people of the court, and the boring Romans who lived in Camelot, none of whom seemed to give a dame about her, she spent the remainder of her evening with the other Knights and found that she adored all of them. Gawain and Galahad had laughed at her remark to Lancelot and actually praised her for being so bold, so she instantly liked them. Bors and his lover Vanora talked nonstop about their enormous family and she found an instant friendship forged with the woman and her loud Knight. She did not get much out of Dagonet and Tristan but found that it was just their way since they remained silent for majority of the evening; however, she did find them pleasant nonetheless when they did contribute.

She was even more pleased to notice the instant bond formed between Vanora and Fiona. The two women were close in age and had a great deal in common. What really surprised her was the amount of time the older Knight Dagonet spent next to her surrogate mother. It was clear to Keela along with half the room that the Knight was taken with Fiona and she with him, their dances were frequent and he even went so far as to escort her to her room, only after Keela and Vanora had practically shoved her away of course.

Guinevere was tired as the evening drew to a close and welcomed the peace of being alone as she sat in her seat while reflecting on the evening. She adored Keela and was thrilled to have someone close to her own age and so like her in the Castle. She was, however, furious with Lancelot, appalled by his behaviour, and wanted nothing more than to run him through herself. A ringing laugh reached her ears and she turned to see Keela laughing with Gawain and Galahad. She could see the sparkle in the two Knights eyes as they laughed with the young Princess. She was glad that the two Knights had taken an interest in her and had gone out of their way to entertain her for it was evident that Lancelot wanted nothing to do with the lovely Princess. Feeling heated eyes upon her, she tore her gaze from the three and looked back to where Lancelot was standing and met his eyes, his intense gaze causing an unpleasant shiver to run down her spine.

_PLEASE REVIEW!!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Sigh Please don't hate me! And yes, I said it again. I know my update is long overdue, but here it is. I am once again not sure how I feel about this chapter, but I just can't look at it anymore. I hope you all like it and look forward to your thoughts. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews. _

Keela had concluded that this was undoubtedly the worst day of her entire life. She had once again gone so far as to retort to childish fits by attempting to stay in bed for as long as possible, willing to stay asleep in hopes that somehow she would not have to marry a man who clearly despised her.

She was troubled by the fact that she couldn't find it in her heart to hate Lancelot for his actions, no matter how hard she tried, because she understood; she understood how he could feel. She knew the moment she caught sight of him he would be her downfall and it irritated her. She wanted him to love her for she could feel herself actually developing feelings for the insufferable man.

But what she just couldn't understand was why he at least wasn't making an attempt to be civil towards her, she was after all being forced into this as well, and it hurt her that he wasn't willing to give her a chance.

How she found herself reduced to this pathetic state only angered her more. She was a leader, always at the head of her army and the first into battle ready to die for her people and country. Yet here she was sulking like a child and feeling utterly sorry for herself and it sickened her. How ridiculous she had become in such a short period of time.

"Do try to look somewhat happy," Fiona sighed wishing there was something she could do to ease the situation. She had never seen her Princess so miserable and as the day drew on it only got worse resulting in her heart breaking more and more.

Keela's cold gaze flickered to Fiona but she just couldn't do anything to acknowledge the older woman and went back to standing numbly while Fiona and Vanora reluctantly continued their fussing over her gown in an unnecessary frenzy.

The two women, who seemed to have been separated at birth, had spent the entire day fussing over her to the point where she had to numb all emotions in order to prevent herself from physically harming the two innocent women. Guinevere of course spent some time with her; however, due to Keela's fowl mode, the visit had proved to be slightly awkward since the Irish Princess couldn't even force a smile let alone hold a conversation. Her father, brother, even Oran had tried talking to her that afternoon but she was even angrier at them for putting her into this position in the first place so hardly said two words.

She had spent the remainder of the day being primped and groomed to perfection to the point that her body tingled and glowed ready for the husband she knew didn't want her but someone else. So here she stood, her hands freezing, her legs shaking while doing everything she could to keep the useless tears away along with quelling the overwhelming urge to vomit.

Fiona sighed tiredly when she didn't receive a response and moved behind Keela to smooth out the train to her beautiful gown. It was green satin with long tight sleeves and fitted her body snugly while flaring out at her hips and into a full skirt. The neck was squared and hung low revealing an ample amount of Keela's chest. There was a cape that was attached at the shoulders and extended into a long train. What really set the gown off was the fact that it was covered with small intricate silver and white embroidered flowers. It was beautiful and Keela was beautiful in it.

Vanora met Fiona's eyes over Keela's shoulder for a moment and sighed sadly when she finished colouring Keela's eyes. She thought the younger woman was utterly stunning. Keela's eyes were now lined heavily with kohl, her eyelids darkly coloured creating a smoky majestic appearance and her hair was half pulled back and pinned lavishly around her coronet leaving gold ringlets hanging down her back.

Her motherly instincts were almost to the point of being unbearable as she stared into a set of striking eyes that seemed to be slowly diming with each passing moment. It bothered her. It bothered her that this once obviously strong woman was being reduced to such a state. Not that she blamed Keela, not in the least, but she was determined not to let this wedding, an insufferable man like Lancelot, ruin the young Princess. Lancelot wasn't a horrible man, he was quite the opposite in fact, and even though she felt compelled to point out his admirable qualities she couldn't find it in herself to do so since his recent displays would contradict whatever she said.

Keela cocked her head to the side as she stared back into Vanora's motherly brown eyes. "I know we hardly know each other and that this may not seem like much to you," Vanora said softly, her delicate hand coming up and cupping Keela's chin gently. "But you truly are beautiful; I can see in your eyes just how beautiful you really are and you will make any man proud, even one as difficult as Lancelot," her voice was soft and motherly, as her thumb stroked Keela's jaw.

Fiona smiled as Keela's breath hitched and watched as their new friend soothed the younger woman with skills only a mother possessed.

Vanora smiled warmly at Keela seeing the water build in her eyes and brought her other hand up and cupped Keela's face. "Don't let this wedding, this situation, or the man take away that beauty. Don't let it beat you," she continued to smile and wiped a tear that escaped.

"Now," her voice became more firm as she grabbed Keela's hands and helped her off the small pedestal. "Chin up, shoulders squared and remember, you are not changing for him, you are not going to allow this situation, this man, nor anything else stop you from being you, understood?" her voice was still soft but stern while she stared into Keela's eyes as she would any of her children.

Keela couldn't help but chuckle as she looked at Vanora then looked at Fiona who was slowly running her fingers through Keela's hair. "Well, how can I argue with that," she muttered, her eyes dancing with amusement.

Vanora simply shrugged. "You can't my dear and you will do well to learn that you will never be able to," she replied cheekily, both women outright laughing and feeling more at ease.

Guinevere was frustrated, irritated and angry. The wedding which had all of Camelot buzzing was soon to commence and yet the Queen couldn't help but frown. She had been silent ever since she had returned from her visit with Keela; the dejected look on the young Princess' face had saddened her greatly. She felt as if somehow this was their fault because they were forcing two people into a marriage that neither wanted to be a part of.

She frowned as she thought of the groom, an involuntary shiver travelling down her spine as she recalled the intense look he shot her the previous evening. It was one of many. She had noticed the looks Lancelot gave her, always had, and although she would admit she did have some attractions to the dark Knight when she had first met him, she did not now. She was completely and utterly in love with her husband, so much so she thought she would burst at times. Her hand subconsciously went to her stomach when a smile graced her face as she thought of what their love had created.

Her thoughts then drifted back to Keela and the pleasant woman she instantly found her to be. She was young, old for marrying age, but would be the youngest in the Castle. There was something about her though that one didn't see in most women, except her. The defiance and fire that burned in the woman's eyes, the muscles, calloused hands were all a plain indication of the warrior she was. She could tell Keela was holding back, being something she was not, as if hiding her true self and it bothered her. She got the distinct feeling that Keela had been told that it was unacceptable for women to behave in such a way. That was not the way things were here and she would make sure Keela knew that soon enough.

Arthur watched Guinevere as she sat at her vanity in all her glory lost in thought. After three years of marriage his love for her had only intensified and he didn't think it would ever dwindle. Catching her eye when she looked at him through the reflection in her mirror, he smiled warmly and moved towards her, bending over her shoulder while wrapping both arms around her and placing his hands over Guinevere's, their fingers intertwining and resting protectively over her stomach. "What troubles you my love?" he asked softly, kissing the side of her head as she leaned into him.

Guinevere took one of her hands away and brought it up to cup Arthur's cheek while letting out a tired sigh. "Lancelot," was all she said knowing Arthur would understand what her meaning was.

Arthur nodded in understanding for he too was bothered by his best friend's actions. He had accepted the fact that Lancelot was going to be slightly bitter, but he was not prepared for this. He was stunned, as was everyone else, over Lancelot's actions the previous evening. He had literally dragged Lancelot away after he had refused to escort Keela back to her chambers and given him what he hopped to have been a stern talking to but the words seemed to have fallen on deaf ears.

Arthur sighed and moved to the side, Guinevere shifting as he crouched in front of her and placed his head in her lap. She smiled lovingly and began to run her long fingers through his dark hair. "That man infuriates me," he grumbled, his eyes closing in content while his wife continued her administrations.

Guinevere let out a heavy sigh. "She is an amassing woman Arthur and I don't like how he is treating her," she stated through gritted teeth.

Arthur sat there fore a few moments, just enjoying their time alone, before he lifted his head and stood up, grabbing his wife's hands and pulling her to her feet with him. "I know and I don't like it either. But I feel horrible for forcing him into this marriage when he clearly does not wish it. Give him time; he will grow to love her. I have a feeling that she is perfect for him," he exclaimed with a slight smirk recalling the defiance in her eyes when Lancelot had talked down to her. She was exactly what he needed.

Guinevere merely nodded. "Lancelot may grow to love Keela but what is this going to do to her in the meantime?" she questioned, her dark eyes scanning Arthur's forest green ones. She was worried that Lancelot's behaviour could ruin the younger woman.

Arthur's shoulders slumped and only shook his head before kissing Guinevere's forehead lovingly. "Come," he said avoiding the question he hopped he didn't have to answer. "It is time," he moved to where their formal crowns sat upon velvet pedestals and placed his upon his head.

Deciding that she would do everything in her power to help the younger woman, Guinevere squared her shoulders and adjusted her pale blue gown one last time before placing her gold crown on her head and allowing her husband to lead her out of their room.

The ruins were beautiful. Irish all lined one side dressed in their formal battle garments that the people of Camelot found fascinating. Their black, red and green kilts were something many were not accustom to causing everyone to stare. They all wore black leather, sleeveless tunics that were tucked into their kilts with capes clipped to their shoulders and various swords at their sides. The only way to distinguished royalty was the fact that Fallon wore his coronet and his cape draped over his shoulders held together by an extravagant sliver chain.

Lancelot once again would not acknowledge a single soul. He stood in full armour, his black cape flowing behind him as the updraft of the winds from the sea poured over the cliffs. It had been an unusually nice day and now with the sun setting, the ruins were illuminated by the dying sunlight. This only seemed to darken his mood more and cursed again to whatever deity would listen. For once in his life he wanted it to rain, wanted the dark dreary clouds and fog for they best reflected his mood, not this romantic atmosphere.

He was still fuming over the previous evening and the ridiculous lecture he was subjected to, but what really affected him was the fact that whenever he tried to close his eyes he was haunted by Keela's face. He was infuriated with himself for allowing her to affect him in such a way. She had rendered him speechless with her beauty and then a second time with a tongue of fire. He was so consumed with emotions he was not accustom to he felt as though his very being was being torn into two, and he did not like it.

The murmurings that surrounded him seemed to dim bringing him out of his personal torment and finally opted to glance around his surroundings. Merlin who was performing the ceremony stood in the centre of the ruins next to him and the old fossil was once again, staring at him as if he could read Lancelot's very thoughts. The man unnerved him.

He immediately noticed though what had caused the murmurings to cease and felt his throat tighten upon the sight of her. She was flawless, that was the only word he could ever use to describe her. She walked like a Queen and deserved the title in every way….and the man she clutched too tightly to. He hated himself for these feelings, feelings of longing for the woman of his best friend, but most because she held his heart.

As the couple approached, Arthur immediately noticed the dark look on Lancelot's face. He had begun to open his mouth to question him once they stood with Merlin but Lancelot shot him such a look, the King decided that now was not the time to scold him for his brooding manner.

Keela's lifeless body glided across the moist ground, a hand clutching the front of her gown so as to not trip over the hem while her other clung to her father. She could hear voices louder now as they approached and suddenly her feet refused to continue. She didn't want to do this. She didn't want to marry a man who didn't love her nor want her.

King Finchad felt his daughter stop and looked down at her and wished he hadn't. He could see she was trying to hold back her tears and it broke his heart. Flashing a look to Fiona to go ahead, he turned and cupped his daughter's cheek, his heart shattering as her lifeless eyes looked up at him. "My beautiful daughter," he murmured lovingly, a large thumb stroking her soft cheek, "You remind me so much of your mother…she would have been so proud of the woman you have become and to see you here today," he swallowed deeply when he saw her eyes rimming red from the effort she was putting forth to not cry. "I know you are angry with me for this and it pains me to see you so unhappy, but know that I would never have done this if I felt there was another way or a better man. You my dear will make this man the luckiest alive and I know that now you don't think so but you both will grow to love each other, that I am sure of," He rubbed the side of her cheek as he spoke and wiped a single tear that finally fell with the pad of his thumb. "Remember you are a mac Garchon. We are warriors, leaders, strong and fearless," he finished.

The words he spoke touched her, deeply, but Keela had no argument left in her, no words to say to make her father feel better about his decision. Vanora had voiced a similar speech earlier and although at the time it had offered some comfort, it had evaporated the moment she left her chambers.

The two did have one thing right though, she was not going to brake, not going to drown in her sorrows. She would be there for her husband should he need her, but she was not going to pine for him. Still, despite her resolve, she still felt as if the weight of the world was crushing down on her. Sighing sadly, Keela leaned up on her toes and gave her father a lingering kiss on his cheek.

Once he caught sight of Fiona and the music started, Lancelot's eyes remained fixated on the ground. He just couldn't look at her and accept what was about to happen, what he had been forced into.

Taking a deep breath he stole one last glance at a beaming Guinevere, the woman who he wished with all his being was the one who was walking towards him, the one he who would bare his name and children.

When he heard a gasp from the crowd along with receiving a sharp boot to his shin he couldn't help but look up and immediately felt the air leave his lungs as he caught sight of the Goddess approaching.

It was as if everyone and everything turned into a blur and only she remained in focus as she approached him, the dyeing sunlight casing her to literally glow. She was beautiful, if that was even a word to describe her, and he found his stomach twisting at the sight of her.

This beautiful creature was to be his wife. Sadly though, as she got closer, his stomach dropped when he saw the most stock face he had never seen on a woman, or even Tristan. She did not want to be here, that was plainly evident, but what was even worse was that she did not want to be marrying him.

The ceremony would have been beautiful should the two who felt as if the world was ending were not the two wedding. Keela had given a small smile to Lancelot but when she noticed him staring at Guinevere, she immediately ceased to look at him and once again forced herself to go numb.

Now here she sat a new coronet (one identical to Lancelot's) upon her head and next to a man who hadn't, once again, said more than two words to her. She had been presented to the people and were all seated in the ballroom bustling with men and woman who didn't give a damn about her but were just happy to have a reason to consume ale.

"People of Camelot," Arthur's voice bellowed capturing everyone's attention and immediately silencing the room.

Arthur turned and smiled down at Lancelot and Keela, doing his best to swallow a frown when he looked at the two crestfallen newlyweds. "Lady Keela, we are honoured to have a Princess as lovely as yourself here with us and on behalf of myself, my wife, Knights and all of Camelot, we welcome you into our family and hope you two have a long, happy life." He raised his goblet along with the entire room, the Knights all smashing their fists on the table in agreement.

Keela inclined her head and gave a smile whereas Lancelot just continued to stare indifferent to what the man had said.

King Finchad stood after Arthur took a seat and raised his own goblet to Keela and Lancelot. "My lovely daughter, you were a blessing from the Gods. You mother gave her life so that you and your brother may live and not a day goes by that I don't thank her for the gift she left me, for that is what you are, a gift to not only me, but your brother, your country, and now to Camelot. She would be proud to see you today as am I." He paused for a moment, every occupant in the room smiling at the affection and adoration in which the King spoke to Keela, and watched his only daughter stare at him with such pain filled eyes he knew that they would forever haunt him.

Swallowing, he turned to the man he prayed would not be a disappointment to him. "Lancelot, you have been blessed with a beautiful, talented and noble woman to call your wife," his voice was slightly harsher when he spoke to Lancelot as if there was an underlying threat spoken, words left unsaid, "May you both have many happy years and beautiful children," he added with a final salute of his goblet.

Lancelot understood completely and raised his goblet to the King with a nod. As much as he didn't want his wife, he would never harm her. He turned to Keela and almost fell over when he saw a tear slowly streaming down her cheek, a tear that showed the first sign of emotion that day and he was sure it was not a tear of happiness but one of sadness. It bothered him, greatly, and before he could stop himself felt his hand grab Keela's.

To say she was surprised was an understatement but she was grateful for the gesture and relished in the feel of his warm, calloused hand as it clutched hers.

King Finchad saw the gesture and knew the words he spoke to Keela at the ruins were true, they would love each other. Turning to smile down at Fallon and then back to his teary daughter he continued. "We are all proud and honoured to now have an alliance with the people of Britain and look forward to our years of peace," his voice rang out above the claps and shouts that came from the entire hall as he raised his goblet once again in salute before taking his seat.

Keela remained stiff as Lancelot led them back to his chambers. Fiona had seen to her things and had assured her the living quarters were beautiful and she would enjoy her new home. The night had gone surprisingly well after her father's speech. They had shared a stiff dance, but he had been much kinder to her this night and actually spoke to her, sort of.

She had once again enjoyed her time with all the Knights, having danced with each of them and been given the opportunity to speak to them personally. She especially enjoyed the jokes and tales Gawain and Galahad told her about Lancelot.

She spent a considerable amount of time talking with Guinevere who had easily brushed off her apology for being so rude to her earlier that day. The Queen had expressed her understanding and concern and was nothing but supportive to the situation Keela was thrown in. She was a few seasons older than Keela but the Queen was kind and compassionate and shared many of the same likes as Keela herself. Despite the love her husband had for the woman, she could not bare any ill feelings towards her.

Lancelot glanced at his new wife out of the corner of his eye. He could feel her nervousness. If he would admit it to himself, he was too, and he was never nervous with women. Clearing his throat and his thoughts, he opened the door to his chamber and let her enter before closing it softly behind him and leaning against it as she look around.

Keela had to smile. It was very much a man's chamber but she couldn't help but feel at home in it. The stone walls were covered in various masculine tapestries but added to the warmth of the room, exactly what Keela liked. There was a large fireplace with two large, cushioned chairs placed in front surrounded by a number of black fur rugs. There was a table with four chairs in front of a large set of windows that held a beautiful view of the City and valley. There were three rooms which Lancelot explained one to be the wash room, a spare bed chamber and of course his room.

Keela again smiled as he led her to their room. There was a large trunk and weapons rack in the right corner that held the two swords she had heard he wielded like extended limbs, along with his bow and a number of other weapons. There was a tapestry hung on each wall, her chest was at the foot of the bed, and two large armoires with a dressing table in between. There was a large four post bed in the centre of the room with another fireplace and a large window on the opposite side with a lounge underneath.

Lancelot let out the breath he had been holding when he saw her smile at his room. "Do you like it?" he asked moving around and beginning to remove his armour, placing various parts on the post meant to hold it.

Keela nodded and removed her coronet and placed it on the dressing table. "I like it very much," she replied genuinely as she moved over to the lounge and peered out the window.

"Good," Lancelot said dryly after removing the last of his armour. He didn't bother to acknowledge her as he moved across the room and opened an armoire and pull out a black jerkin. She had quickly concluded that the Knight only owned black.

Keela immediately frowned. "Are you going somewhere?" she asked, her voice unwavering despite her unease. She didn't know why she started to feel upset that he was leaving but she was. She had already come to terms with the duties she was to perform as a wife but the fact that he didn't want to touch her disturbed her even more when it was so painfully evident she wanted to touch him.

Lancelot buttoned up his jerkin and raised an eyebrow to Keela and took a deep breath. "Do not worry. I will not touch you for I can only understand what this must be like for you. All of this has happened quickly for the both of us and I am sure you are exhausted. I am going to go to the tavern with my brothers and you can relax," and before she could utter a word he left leaving her once again, alone and dejected.

_What did you think? Did I jump from one thing to the next too much? I wasn't sure if it flowed as well as it could have. PLEASE REVIEW!!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Pat on the back for me, a quick update for you __all and a long one at that. So, I kinda like this chapter and hope you all do to. Thank you to the wonderful people who review, means a lot. ENJOY!_

Slowly the new morning sun began its ascension, its magnificent rays raining light over the entire valley of Camelot and bringing forth a new day. Though, as this new light began to creep through a sleeping beauty's window, the luminescent rays slowly lighting up her still form that was safely tucked away in her sanction of warm furs, the beauty began to stir feeling the warm sunlight forcing her to welcome the day; a new day that was anything but welcome.

Keela moaned when the sunlight beamed directly onto her face. Rolling over, her back turned to the sun, the new day, the world, her arm subconsciously reached out to the cold side of her bed that was once again lacking its other occupant. Her fingers spread wide as her hand danced across the cool sheets that were meant to be filled and whished the man that was meant to be there was pressed against her, his large arms cradling her to his warm body in the way a loving husband should.

Lazily, her eyes began to flutter open and focused in on the vacant side of the bed. Blinking rapidly to clear her sleepy gaze, Keela let out a sigh and simply stared. She wondered if he ever came home. She knew that some nights he did, his drunken form barely making it to the bed or sometimes even being carried in by Gawain and Galahad often waking her up at a late hour in the process. But every time he was always up and out of the room before she awoke unless he managed to pass out in the other room.

It had been two months since their marriage, two months since her father and brother had left, two months she had been living this life that was eating away at her. She was nothing but a shell of her former self now. She knew it and she knew Fiona knew it. She could see every time the others looked at her their eyes were filled with unwanted pity and/or sympathy. Pity for the situation she was in and sympathy for the man she was married to. She hated it.

Closing her eyes, she simply basked in the morning sunlight that was now so intense its heated beams were warming her back as if trying to force her out of bed. She had been very distant as of late, avoiding everyone, not bothering to interact with the others. At first she tried, tried to be strong, and even developed a close friendship with Guinevere and Galahad along with Vanora and the other Knights. But now she was just so tired. She was tired of watching her husband ignore her and stare after other woman, one especially, tired of the whispers, tired of the glares even. She wanted to go home.

She supposed she should get up, face yet another day in a life that was foreign to her and unwanted. Perhaps if she got up now she could evade Fiona and not have to deal with listening to another morning lecture on how she should be taking better care of herself, be more sociable and whatnot.

What did the older woman know Keela thought bitterly to herself as she rolled over on her back and brought her arm up, draping it over her eyes to block out the ever persisting sunlight. Fiona didn't know what was really going on, what it was like to be married to a man who was sickened at the sight of her, wanted nothing to do with her, made no effort to accept or even try to know her.

She had been trying, just like Fiona, Guinevere and even the bold Arthur had requested her to do. Trying to win the ungrateful, suborn dark knight's affections. But Keela was beginning to think that she couldn't do it. The man's hart was as hard as stone and every attempt she made to win it over had been in vain.

"Oh for the sake of the Gods," she groaned to the room when the sunlight began to heat her arm. It would be a warm day that was for sure she grumbled as she sat up and glared viciously out the window. She was losing her mind.

Sighing, she pulled herself out of bed. Perhaps a morning walk would do her good. She hadn't really seen the City other than the time Guinevere took her and summer would be over as soon as it came. Then the dark, dreary days filled with rain and fog would come.

Taking a deep breath, she looked out the window and smiled, yes, time to herself and a walk would be just what she needed.

Dressed in a thin pale blue gown, the sleeves just touching her elbows, Keela found herself enjoying the morning immensely. She strolled along the river that curved around Camelot and talked with some of the people who were out early taking advantage of the wonderful day, many of whom were all to eager to get to know their new Princess.

When she made it to the market that was already bustling with life, a slight met her eyes that suddenly made this ridiculous marriage, this life she was subjected to, worth it.

It was the sight of new, blossoming love. It was the fairytale chivalrous Knight standing tall and proud while he escorted the lovely woman who hung on his arm.

Following at a safe distance, she just watched them. Watched as Dagonet followed Fiona while she purchased whatever goods vendors had that caught her eye and listened eagerly as her old friend talked incessantly of their home. It was a look though that caused Keela's steps to stop.

Fiona was talking happily to the baker about something and Dagonet was simply standing next to her, a hand resting on the hilt of the enormous sword that hung at his side with the other on the small of her back and smiling ear to ear, his eyes shinning with unyielding love as he looked down upon the woman next to him. It was the look one gives a lover; a look that lasts lifetimes and often takes lifetimes to find.

Her friend had found that.

Tears of happiness began to prick her eyes. If there was one wish she had always wanted to be granted, it was for Fiona to find her love. And found it she had.

This was worth it. She could do this if it meant that Fiona could be happy. A woman who had dedicated her life at such a young age to be the mother that Keela and Fallon couldn't have; trained her, loved her, nursed her and wassimply just her. If anything, Fiona deserved true happiness more than anyone she knew.

"A fine sight to a fine morning."

Keela jumped while clutching her chest before she spun around gasping for air. "Goodness, don't ever do that again," she wheezed while her heart attempted to steady.

Galahad let out a throaty chuckle. "I beg your pardon my Princess," he teased giving her a mocking bow, his arms spread out wide.

Keela rolled her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips and spun around catching sight of Dagonet and Fiona making there way to another stand, his hand still protectively on the small of her back. "I'm sure you do," she retorted, her eyes glancing at the young Knight next to her as he approached her side.

Galahad smirked tilting his head to look down at her. "So," he said light heartedly while offering his arm for her to take. "Would you do me the honour of allowing me to escort such a lovely Princess this fine morning?" he asked, his eyes dancing mischievously.

Keela smiled while glancing around at the many townsfolk watching the interaction with interest. No doubt if she took Galahad's arm and let him escort her around there would be talk of her being a whore by noon. Sighing inwardly, she put that to the back of her mind. She enjoyed his friendship and the company he provided. She didn't give a damn what anyone said or thought. "Why good sir, I am the one to have the honour of being blessed with the company of such a fine knight such as yourself," she retorted, curling her arm around his.

Galahad laughed and pet her hand affectionately. He so enjoyed her company. She was always easy to tease and was more than willing to engage in friendly banter. He had quickly discovered that very little offended her and he liked that. It was easy to talk to her because of that. He had noticed her lack of presence though lately. Not that he blamed her. She only came to meals and left right after opting not to have to sit through an evening of being ignored by her husband and having to watch him stare at someone else.

Galahad and Keela walked in silence, each enjoying the other's company as they weaved their way through the markets, Galahad often pointing out interesting merchants and the items they sold.

Keela rolled her eyes when she saw a group of young maids huddled together trying to be discreet while they no doubt gossiped about her and the Knight she was with. "I must warn you," she whispered, leaning slightly in so Galahad could hear her.

Galahad looked down, his eyebrow raised for her to continue. "I fear that by noon or at the very latest nightfall, you and I my friend will be the talk of the town," she informed glancing behind her to the group of maids.

Galahad looked behind them and scowled at the women who immediately turned a deep shade of red at having been caught and dispersed. "At least we give them something to talk about," he grumbled. "How tiresome it must be to live life through others," he added. He never understood why woman created such folly. He liked being informed but he never gave a damn about anything that didn't concern those around him, and even then there was only so much he wanted to know.

Keela huffed as she swivelled easily to dodge the group of children that went flying by, pausing to wink at a small girl who looked up at her sheepishly. "Galahad, these are woman. It does not matter their station or age, they will always take great pleasure in scrutinizing other's lives simply because it makes them feel better about the pathetic life they lead," she replied looking up at him, her eyes dancing.

Galahad stopped and chuckled. "Well, when you put it that way I can't see where you're wrong." He really didn't. Actually, as he thought about it, she was right. Did people really have that much time one their hands? Were they really that shallow?

Keela nodded. "Of course I'm not wrong, silly man," she teased, her shoulder nudging his playfully.

Galahad rolled his eyes. "Right," he mocked. Clearing his throat he looked down at Keel as she eyed a silk cart. "It is good to see you out and about Keela," he said softly.

Keela paused and looked up at Galahad. His eyes were genuinely pleased to see her and she felt her lips curl. It was nice that someone at least appreciated her presence. "It is nice to be seen," she replied, clutching his arm tightly.

Galahad nodded, happy that he got a smile out of her. He liked her smile. "Good," he breathed out. Perhaps if she knew that there were other's like he, Guinevere, Vanora and the other knights that genuinely liked and wanted to know her then she might be more inclined to accept their company.

"So…I was on my way to the training grounds when I saw you and decided to intercept but I fear that if I don't make my way there soon, your lovely husband and Gawain might skin me alive," he informed her gravely, beginning to steer her back the way they came.

Keela frowned, her newly acquired happy mood beginning to dissipate. "Well, I do not wish to keep you," she said trying to hide her disappointment that her new friend had to leave so soon.

Galahad grinned. "Of course you won't, you're going to walk me there and meet our younglings," he stated, his words leaving no room for her to argue.

Her mood instantly lifted and she eagerly followed Galahad as he yammered on about how the army was forever growing but was yet still so young.

Keela found the information fascinating.

"So after the war at Badon Hill with the Saxons, many Britons travelled to the wall, where we were at the time," Keela nodded, "and immediately wanted to be a part of the new army that was going to be formed under their knew King, Arthur," he paused for a moment and looked down at Keela who was listening intently before continuing. Another thing he enjoyed about her, he could talk about anything and everything, including the army, sward play, things like that. She was just always genuinely interested, willing to listen to what he or anyone had to say.

"It took some time for all the Woad clans to accept Arthur's rule, but eventually most did and they too added to the army. There is still a considerable amount of Woads that continue with their own way of life in the forests but they are always ready and willing to be called should there ever be a need to battle or go to war," he finished just as they reached the training grounds.

Keela leaned against the wooden fence and watched as Gawain and Bors walked down lines of fighting men, some younger than her, offering hints of improvement whenever needed. "The battle with the Saxons, you nearly lost Tristan and Lancelot?" she inquired, not sure if she got her facts right.

They both waived at Gawain before Galahad looked down at Keela who was now looking at the silent scout as he instructed a private group of archers. She heard he was the best next to Galahad and Bors with a bow. Perhaps one day he could help her, she wasn't that great and could surely improve under his tutelage. She could shoot yes, had good aim, but it wasn't her weapon of choice. There was always room for improvement in her mind.

"Aye, Dagonet too but before that battle on the ice," Keela nodded recalling his tale of their final mission. "If Arthur hadn't got to the Saxon King in time, Tristan wouldn't be here. He almost did die from blood loss and infection but the old crow is too stubborn to die…or at least let someone beat him. He is very competitive you know," he said light-heartedly trying to burry the painful emotions that no doubt surfaced.

Keela gave a small smile while she turned on her side, her elbow resting on thefence as she looked up at Galahad, thankful the sun wasn't in her eyes at this angel. "And Lancelot?" she found herself asking quietly.

Galahad sighed unsure if he should tell her the truth or the short version. Deciding that no good could come from hiding something from her, he only prayed that this didn't cause more damage. "He had seen Guinevere fighting the Saxon leader's son and losing, badly, and just like the valiant Knight he is," Keela noted his tone was mocking as he said this, "he went to her rescue. He struck the man down but was forced to fight more off her before he could finish the Saxon," he paused and swallowed before continuing no doubt hating to recall such traumatic events.

"At the very moment Lancelot turned around, the bastard shot him with a crossbow, the arrow landing an inch above his heart. He killed the man with what we thought was his last breath, but like Tristan, Lancelot is never one to accept defeat," his voice had dropped lower and lower as each word left his mouth, his head cocked to the side as he took in Keela's appearance. She wasn't looking at him anymore but something behind him and with a look as if someone had stolen something very dear to her.

Turning around, his brows furrowed together in anger and his jaw clenched tightly. He could kick himself for telling such a tale while having her witness the sight they were seeing.

Lancelot was leaning against the armoury, his body looking tense, his right hand absentmindedly rubbing his chest just above his heart while he watched the Queen talk with Vanora and holding 12 in her arms. It would be easy for a blind man to see the intensity behind such a look, the longing and desire that it possessed.

Keela sucked in a breath as she watched her husband, watched as he stared after another woman. She had heard stories about the battle, Guinevere had told her all about it, but the Queen had failed to mention that Lancelot had nearly died trying to save her. Not that she blamed the Queen, but still. It was hard to hear such a thing and see her husband looking at the Queen that way. It cut, deeply, as it always did.

How he wanted to beat that man. Tie him to the back of his horse and drag the ungrateful son of a bitch all across Britain until he had some sense knocked into him. Looking back at Keela,Galahad's face fell even more seeing the tormented look in her eyes. All his work this morning washed away with a single glance. "Keela, don't le—."

Keela's cheeks flushed and her eyes pricked with tears when Lancelot, as if sensing he was being watched, turned his head and glared at her, his eyes resentful and harsh. Eyes that looked upon a woman he didn't want. "Please Galahad, don't," she whispered holding her hand up and cutting him off, tearing her gaze away from her husband, who after taking one last glance at his Queen, was now making his way to towards the pair.

Galahad's shoulders slumped and he was about to open his mouth when Keela gathered her skirts looked behind his shoulder one more time then up at him. "I thank you for our walk this morning and enjoyed your company. Good day," she quickly curtsied and was gone before he could utter another word.

Letting out a huff of frustration he didn't notice Lancelot stand beside him, staring off in the directing of his retreating wife.

"Where did she run off to in such a hurry?" Lancelot found himself asking. Not that he was disappointed, he always found himself uneasy around her. He was tormented enough with his ridiculous feelings; he didn't need her standing before him clouding his mind. But he hadn't expected her to run away at the sight of him. She never did. She was always sweet, kind, patient, dutiful and took his unpredictable moods with stride. This was new and he found himself frowning. He didn't like it.

Galahad snapped his gaze at the older man and flashed him such a dark look Lancelot was momentarily stunned. "You are such an ungrateful ass…you do know that right?" he bit off, a tad louder than he expected. He was just so mad at Lancelot and didn't think he could keep that to himself any longer.

Lancelot cocked his head to the side and frowned. He was nursing a horrible hangover and was in no mood to put up with Galahad's unpredictable temper. "What is your problem?" he questioned, his tone dark and promising pain if the younger Knight didn't back off.

Galahad noticed Tristan, Bors and Gawain now making their way over but continued anyway knowing that this wasn't going to end well. He didn't care. Someone was going to tell this man off and he was more than willing to be the one to do so. "My problem is you," he retorted, his chest puffing out in an attempt to appear superior.

Unfortunately, it was useless for Lancelot simply glared right back. He was about to tell the pup he better bugger off but before he could even open his mouth Galahad was poking his chest looking more livid than he had seen the younger man in quite some time.

"When are you going to get your bloody head out of your bloody ass and start treating your wife, whom you clearly don't deserve, with the respect she deserves?" He was yelling now and not only attracting the attention of the Knights but Guinevere and Vanora also.

Lancelot's eyes narrowed dangerously, his head tiltingdownto where Galahad had poked him then back up at the younger man's fuming face. "You will not speak of such things ever again…do you understand me Galahad?" he said dangerously low, his fist barley restraining themselves from connecting with the younger man's face.

Galahad's confidence waivered ever so slightly but when he saw Guinevere approaching and Lancelot's eyes flicker to her form, his face flushed red and he leaned in so only Lancelot could hear. "If you weren't pining after a woman who does not and will never belong to you, I wouldn't have to say such things. You are a bastard Lancelot for you have a wonderful woman who is so willing to love a fool like you yet you resent her because she is not the woman you want, a woman who you shouldn't even want," he sneered, his eyes blazing.

As soon as the words left Galahad's mouth, Lancelot's fist had connected with his jaw sending the man sprawling to the ground. Galahad landed with a thud, but didn't even flinch and swiped Lancelot's legs out from under him then pounced, a full brawl irrupting from the two as they rolled around delivering punch after punch.

It took Gawain, Tristan and Bors to finally pull the pair apart, all three men narrowly missing a few misplaced punches and kicks in the process.

"Oi, what the bloody hell has gotten into you two?" Bors roared as he stood in between the two men who were glaring bloody murder at each other.

When neither said any thing, Guinevere handed 12 over to Vanora and glared at the two men who had caused quite the scene. They were quite the scene themselves. Lancelot was clutching his ribs, had a bruise forming on his jaw and temple while Galahad had a bruised and cut lip, a bruised cheek and what was surely going to be a black eye in the morning. "Well?" she asked, a delicate eyebrow raised, a foot tapping impatiently, her hands planted firmly on her hips.

Neither spoke but continued to glare at the other, their chests heaving, their jaws clenched. The looks between the two were enough. Words need not be spoken. Younger eyes were threatening and disgusted while older ones were full of malice and warning.

Gawain looked down at Galahad and tried to figure out what had gotten the pup so riled up. He had a pretty good idea what was going on though having seen Galahad with Keela that morning. Galahad had taken an instant liking to the young Princess, even her brother before he had left, and knew that it was bothering the younger man greatly that Lancelot was being such a bastard. None of them liked it, but it was not their place to interfere with the other's lives. He was impressed with Galahad though. It was always nice to see someone stand up to Lancelot; lord knows he had done enough of that in his time.

"Galahad, clam down man," he muttered, his thoughts braking when Galahad flung his arms away.

Tristan raised his eyebrow in surprise when Galahad flashed such a dark look at Lancelot it would rival his before stalking away. Sensing that it was okay to let Lancelot go, he looked at Gawain and Bors who were both staring at Galahad's retreated form before rolling his eyes and returning to the archery training. All this drama was irritating.

Lancelot couldn't remember a time when he had been so livid, he was practically shaking with rage. His mind was spinning at such a rate he could only see red. He had half a mind to chase Galahad down and finish beating the man senseless.

"Lancelot was that all about?"

Lancelot snapped his head at Guinevere and sighed heavily while wiping the dust from his clothes. "It's nothing you need to concern yourself with," he answered dryly before he spun on his heel and stormed off in the opposite direction as Galahad.

Guinevere and Vanora both frowned before looking at Gawain and Bors. "Do you know what that was about?" Vanora asked Bors who was looking anywhere but at her.

Gawain sighed. It would do no good to say anything. "As he said, it is nothing you both need to concern yourselves with. You well know that a good fight always solves things between us men," he teased hopping that his words were in fact true in this case. He had a feeling though that if Lancelot continued to treat his wife the way he was, Galahad was only going to get more defensive.

Vanora rolled her eyes and shifted 12 in her arms. "Silly if you ask me," she grumbled.

Guinevere though was not convinced but she knew better than to pester Gawain and nodded. "Well aright then," she sighed. She knew what it was about, she wasn't stupid. She knew what Lancelot was doing, knew he was always watching her, and she knew what this was doing to his wife. He just didn't realize how he was hurting everyone, especially Keela. This needed to stop, soon, before something bad happened.

Keela's feet seemed to lead her to the only thing that truly provided the comfort she so needed: Mona. Upon entering the large stables that was attached to the castle which housed only the King, Queen and Knights horses, every head turned to gazed at her before they each bowed dutifully.

Pausing, Keela raised an eyebrow eyeing the young men who were trying to do anything but stare at her. Smiling politely at the young men who all seemed to either blush or nod sheepishly, something many of the men did when she smiled at them, she made her way to where Mona's large stall was, her giant horse stomping her feet happily.

"Princess!"

Keela spun around to a bowing Jols and smiled at the friendly man. "Jols, good day to you," she replied with a nod of her head. She adored the man for he had such a gentle touch. Horses, including Mona, gravitated towards him and he them. It was quite something to see when he soothed a frightened or ill animal or simply groomed them.

Jols handed Keela a brush for Mona knowing that was the reason she was in the stables. Keela always tended to Mona since the horse was so very dear to her. "As to you your highness," he said softly opening the latch for an eager Mona who was bobbing her head up and down excited to see her mistress.

Keela chuckled when Mona nudged her head intoher chest when she stepped out of her stall and turned to Jols, a hand lovingly stroking Mona's cheek as large animal rested her head against Keela's chest. "Please Jols, call me Keela," she pleaded. The stableman always insisted on formalities no matter how many times she requested him to use her given name. They were friends after all and the Knights considered him family.

Jols smiled and gave Mona an affectionate pat on her romp. "Aye my lady," came his predictable reply before he gave her a nod and moved away, ordering everyone to leave her and Mona be.

Keela smiled while shaking her head and moved her attention to Mona who was now nipping at her skirts looking for some form of a treat. Swatting her nose away, Keela began her daily ritual of grooming a content Mona while singing softly to her in her native tongue.

As she stroked her loving beast, every man in the stables, including Jols, ceased their occupation to listen to the angelic voice that filled the air.

In her own little world, Keela hadn't even noticed that now a small crowd had gathered at the other entrance closest to her, all simply staring and listening in awe. For not only was her voice majestic, calming, but the horses seemed to be swaying with the soft melody.

As Keela finished another song and looked up, a deep blush formed on her cheeks when she noticed that everyone was watching her. Smiling sheepishly she looked around and cleared her throat.

As if sensing her discomfort, Jols was about to compliment her when a group of children beat him too it, "What were you signing?" came a small voice from behind Keela.

Keela turned around and stared at the small group of children before her. Looking each of them over, it took her a few moments to remember who they were. Lucan was standing before her with a small, shy smile on his face and was accompanied by 7, 8, and 9, along with a very timid 10 who stood slightly away from the small group. Smiling warmly down at the children, having recognized them as the one's she had passed that morning, she glanced at 10 before looking back at 7 who was the one that had asked the question. "Songs from my homeland," she replied.

8 smiled her eyes large. "They were very nice," she said happily. Although they couldn't understand the words, it was the emotion in the voice that captivated everyone.

Keela smiled warmly at 8 then 9 who nodded next to her sister. "Thank you 8. Perhaps someday you would like to learn what the words mean, and then you can sing them too," she suggested.

8 simply beamed. "Really?" she squealed and clapped her hands together.

Keela chuckled and nodded.

9 looked up through her mass off auburn hair and smiled warmly. "Pa says you're from Ir..Ire…," her face scrunched in frustration trying to recall the name.

Lucan stepped forward and smiled softly. "She's from Ireland," he said meekly.

Keela smiled at his bashfulness. He was just like his adoptive father: quite, timid, yet humble, strong and loveable. "That's right Lucan," she said before looking over to 11 who was staring up at Mona intently as if trying to decide whether to approach or not.

7, who looked a tad board now that the entertainment was over, quickly turned to Lucan. "Let's go find the other's and play," he suggested hurriedly.

Lucan looked at the two other girls who nodded excitedly before turning back to Keela. "Good day Princess," he said politely bowing with 7 as 8 and 9 curtsied.

Keela giggled and curtsied the young children. "As to you," she replied her words barely out of her mouth before the little group was off.

Sighing happily, she turned to see 10 looking around somewhat lost. "10 love?" she moved and crouched low in front of the little girl. "Are you not going to go play with the others?" she asked softly, her hand slowly reaching out and fingering a piece of the girl's choppy light brown hair.

10 didn't look up from staring at her feet, her hair as always covering her face, but shook her head. They hadn't asked her to go, so why should she? Besides, she wanted to stay with the pretty princess. She had winked at her earlier that morning and 10 thought she was enchanting. A princess who was different just like her. Plus, she liked her voice. It was comforting, like her mother's. But her mother was too busy to be with her.

Keela bit the inside of her cheek and just stared at 10. Guinevere had explained to her after meeting the quite girl that many for a long time had thought 10 to be a mute or perhaps even simple in the head since the little girl constantly hid from the world and rarely spoke. It was only in the past year or two that they had figured that the girl was just very shy.

Keela however thought she saw something else. After Guinevere had told her of this, Keela had watched the small girl whenever she saw her. Always at the back of the line, end of the table and in the shadows; her hair was always covering her face, her eyes barely visible from her choppy bangs and her head was always down. But what others seemed to miss was that 10 was actually quite smart, too smart for her young age of four. She had seen the girl watching through her mass of hair, following everyone with her eyes, taking in everything around her. She had seen shy smiles, sadness when she was neglected, and anger when she was picked on which seemed to be quite a bit since she was so aloof.

To Keela, it seemed the little girl just wanted attention, always feeling lost in the throng of children and adults. She seemed shy and needed reassurance. It was no one's fault for 10 never went out of her way to let on that she needed these things, a quality Keela thought was admirable and yet at the same time not. A four year old should not be feeling such things. Keela was certainly going to change this. She had time, lots of it.

Looking up at Mona who was watching the two intently, she looked back at 10 and cupped the little girls chin brining her head up. "Would you like to spend the afternoon with me 10? I was going to give Mona a wash, you can help if you want?" she asked softly, hopping that the little girl would like the attention.

And right Keela was.

10 gave her a soft smile and an eager nod. She really wanted to. She loved horses but was never allowed to be around them since she was so small and everyone was always to busy to take her.

Keela beamed and grabbed 10's small hand softly then clicked her tongue while swivelling her weight and holding her hand out for Mona.

10's eyes went wide and she automatically backed up when Mona took a step forward and bent her large head down level with the small girl.

Keela chuckled and kept a firm grip on 10's hand when she went to move away. "Do not be afraid, little one," she cooed while rubbing Mona's head and looking at 10's wide eyes. "Her name is Mona and as long as you respect her, are kind to her, she will be the same to you," she informed the girl who seemed to have relaxed realizing the large beast was not going to hurt her.

10 looked at Keela taking in the information and nodded in understanding, her feet shuffling slowly closer, her hand itching to touch the pure white coat of the amazing animal before her.

Keela let go of 10's hand and curled an arm around her waist bringing the young girl close, her face right up to Mona's head which was almost as big as the little girl's small form. "Now, hold your palm out and let Mona smell you so she will know who you are and not fear you in the future," she informed. She knew Mona would never be spooked from a child, there was hardly anything that the horse feared, but this was more for 10's sake.

10 looked at Keela and nodded. Taking a deep breath, she did as instructed. Mona, staring at the small form in front of her, slowly tilted her head to smell 10, the soft skin and hairs of her nose tickling the little girls hand and earning a giggle of delight.

Keela chuckled happy to hear such a noise. "See, she likes you and now you are friends," she informed 10 who looked up at Keela with wide eyes.

Keela nodded and continued to scratch under Mona's neck. "That's right. And whenever you want, you can come here and simply be with her and pet her. She will enjoy your company," she explained nodding for the little girl to do just that.

10 looked unsure of herself for a moment, her hand clutched protectively to her chest. Mona, as if sensing the emotion, tilted her head again and stuck her chin in 10's face wanting her to do just that.

Letting out a giggle of delight, 10 reached a small hand up and moved it down Mona's face with awe, her tiny fingers running over Mona's coat lightly and taking in the feel of her face, the giant animal simply standing there and letting her.

And that is how the day remained for Keela and 10. The pair of them cleaning Mona and her stall along with her tack with Keela explaining everything to the little girl who was more than happy to learn all that she could and simply enjoy herself and the attention Keela gave her.

Unbeknownst to the pair, two sets of eyes had watched the amazing transformation in the little girl. A girl who earlier that morning never smiled at the world around her, found no joy in it, but was now laughing, talking, giggling and freely enjoying everything around her and the person she was with.

Jols shook his head happily and sighed finally deciding that now was the time to return to his duties, casting one last look to Keela who was showing 11 how to properly sit on Mona, the horse remaining motionless knowing the small person on her back was precious cargo, he moved to exit the stables only to stop short when he saw Lancelot standing in the shadows staring at the pair with such an unreadable expression on his face, his feet refused to continue.

Lancelot had been storming through the castle, his blood boiling and his fists aching to connect with Galahad's face and break it. He couldn't remember a time when he had been so mad, so eager to take his swords and run someone through. If he was honest with himself though, if he looked past his hurt pride and through the anger, he would know that what Galahad had bravely said to him was true.

He was too consumed though. Too lost in his anger to even see this or even think that he was in the wrong. He was the one forced to marry. He was the one forced to have a wife he didn't know, love. He was the one forced to be tormented day-by-day having to watch the woman who consumed his mind be with another man. He was the one forced to hate himself for it; hate himself for desiring his best friend's wife.

Not paying attention to where his feet were leading him, Lancelot nearly collided with a small throng of people gathered outside the entrance to the royal stables. Glancing up and wondering what was so enthralling, he was about to shove his way through when the answer hit his ears, the angelic sound so soft, so blissful an instant warmth flooded his body that he had not felt since his youth when he was at home in Sarmatia, at peace, untainted and content in the arms of his mother and father.

Unable to move he could only stand there and listen to the most beautiful voice that seemed to still time. Each song that was sung was sung with such emotion, conviction and belief that although he couldn't understand the words, they touched his soul, soothed it.

Once the voice stopped, he found himself frowning at the sense of loss that he felt; the feelings that resurfaced. Looking up and realizing he had been standing there for some time and now alone, he hopped that the barer of such a voice had not left. Such a person deserved his attention and he was not about to let anyone with a voice like that slip through his fingers; he just had to see her, hear her voice again.

Who he did see was not who he was expecting, at all; though, if he had put two-and-two together he would have known. Deep down he did though, he knew it was her.

Realising that she and 10 had not seen him, he darted into the shadows and simply watched not able to admit to himself just yet that she was the one he wanted to hear sing again, wanted her to fill him with that warmth of contentment again. So he simply stood there, ever quite, and just watched with fascination as Keela brought 10 out of her shell that for the entire four years of her little life had been locked with an iron key.

Sensing someone was watching him, Lancelot looked over at Jols and shook his head motioning for the man to keep quite and leave. He was content to simply watch her and see for himself just who this amazing woman was.

Understanding washed over the Jols' face and with a nod of his head, he left the dark Knight to his dark corner to watch his enchanting wife do what no one else had been able to, get the little girl to feel. Hopefully, the faithful squire thought to himself, the Irish Princess would be able to do that with her husband, help him feel.

_I actually hadn't planned on this chapter but as I was working on the next one, I felt this one was needed to start things off since after this chapter and maybe the next one, things__ really start to pick up and the drama unfolds._

_PLEASE REVIEW!_


	6. Chapter 6

_Okie dokie, new chapter. I am on a role with this story and couldn't stop the words once they were flowin. Thanks to all you who reviewed. _

FLASHBACK

_Keela dropped the latch to Mona's stall and gave her steed an affectionate pat before turning around and smiling down at 10. "Shall I walk you home 10?" she asked holding her hand out for the small girl to take._

_10 looked back at Mona and sighed in disappointment then up at Keela. She didn't want to leave but it was already getting dark out and her mother would __be worried if she did not return home soon. Remembering that Keela had promised to see her the following morning, she smiled and took Keela's hand. "Okay," she chirped already getting excited at the prospect of spending another day with the Princess._

_Keela chuckled and brought her other hand around to pat 10's as she clutched tightly too it. "Well alright then," she replied and started to lead the pair out of the stables. _

_Just as they were about to turn the corner the sound of women's voices stopped Keela dead, the words spoken washing over her like ice cold water on a freezing cold day. _

"…_tsk ts__k, Rachel, sleeping with a married man."_

"_You__'re one to talk Diana, I saw Lancelot leaving your room last week."_

_10 turned to look up at Keela realizing she had stopped and frowned. "Wha—"_

_Keela looked down at 10 and picked her up bringing her finger to the little girl's lips to be quite. _

_She didn'__t understand but 10 knew that Keela wanted her to be quite so she rested her head on Keela's shoulder while the Princess listened to the other women's conversation. _

_The woman, Diana, let out a husky sigh. "That night along with the many before was surely one to remember. I don't know what I was thinking would happen when he got married. Guess his Irish whore just aint doing it for him," she bit out; a bitter laugh following, her other two friends sharing her amusement. _

"_Well, I don't know how that man puts up with her, or any of them for that matter," another sneered. _

"_I don't give a damn. As long as he is unhappy with her and keeps coming to my bed, I am fine. That man has talents that should not be wasted on a woman who clearly does not deserve to be here or be married to him."_

_The three woman continued to rant and rave about the pleasures Lancelot frequently bestowed upon them along with venting their opinions and distaste for her, often accusing her and Galahad of being unfaithful._

_Keela tightened her hold on 10 and had to clutch her eyes shut as the urge to collapse in sobs over took her body. She wouldn't do this, not here, not with 10. Taking a shaky breath, she looked down at 10 who was looking up at her with sorrow filled eyes. _

_She knew the little girl heard what was said and felt horrible for letting her; though, she did take comfort when 10 tightened her own hold around Keela's neck. 10 may not have understood the severity of the words, but she knew that the women were speaking ill of Keela. _

_Sighing when the women's voices seemed to fade away into the dark of night, Keela took a deep breath and carried 10 home in silence, the little girl clutching to her frame and offering more comfort than she would ever know._

END OF FLASHBACK

Keela listened to the soothing rain as it poured down in sheets, the dark skies matching her mood perfectly. Shifting on the lounge beneath her window, she tucked her knees to her chest, folded her arms on top and rested her chin while continuing to watch the downpour outside her window. It had been raining for the past two days and she welcomed it; welcomed the depressed state it mirrored. For since that evening the venomous words that were acid to her ears had replayed over and over in her mind: tormenting her, mocking her, laughing at her.

She had once again withdrawn into herself, barely acknowledging anyone. She was angry at the world and at herself. She had cried tears; tears for the harsh words spoken, the actions of her husband and finally tears of disgrace and disgust. Disgust for the new woman she was and disgrace for the fact that she had allowed herself to have succumbed to such a state.

Lancelot entered their room and glanced at her briefly before shrugging off his sodden tunic and dropping it into the hamper she had set up for him. Moving to his armoire he paused as he opened the door and looked at his wife who had not spoken or acknowledged him in two days. "Are you coming down this evening?" he found himself asking as he reached in for a fresh tunic and pulled it over his head.

Keela didn't even look at him and continued to stare out the window. Just when he thought she was going to continue to ignore him, her soft voice broke the silence. "Perhaps," came her emotionless answer.

Lancelot shut the armoire and leaned against it, his arms crossed over his chest. Something was different about her. Her face, although still sun kissed, was looking oddly pale. There were dark circles under her eyes and she had a tightly clenched jaw. "Are you well?" he asked lightly, though still not moving from his spot.

The soft sound of his voice nearly caused her to fall over. Turning her head, she glared at him. What did he care she fumed inside. She wasn't even aware that he had taken the time to actually notice if she were unwell. "I'm fine," she bit out, her head turning to resume her glare out the window. It was all she could do not to launch into a verbal lashing of a lifetime against the imbecile she called husband. But she was in no state at the moment. She would surely tare him into two and she wasn't supposed to do that. She huffed to herself appalled that she had to keep her mouth shut.

Lancelot clenched his still bruised jaw and pushed away from the armoire. "Fine, you want to sit in her all alone, be my guest," he snarled before retreating from the room and slamming their chamber door childishly.

No sooner had Lancelot left the room did she hear the door open and Fiona's soft voice calling out to her. Was she to be forever denied a moment's peace? She just wanted to be alone. She wanted to watch the gloomy sky and watch it darken, just like her mood. It made her feel better.

Fiona peeked into Keela's room and frowned when she saw her Princess. "Keela, I just saw Lancelot. Is everything alright?" she asked as she took tentative steps towards the younger woman who had yet to acknowledge her. She had seen Lancelot alright; the man nearly mowed her over when she went to knock on the door. It was clearly evident that they had some sort of quarrel.

Keela slowly turned her head and glanced at the older woman as she crouched down beside her. "Everything is fine," she lied. Even though she knew Fiona could tell just by looking at her that she was not fine, she didn't care. She didn't want to talk about it and the look she gave Fiona told her so.

Frowning having indeed understood the look, Fiona stood up, pushed Keela forward before she could protest and stat behind her pulling the younger woman's body against hers. Ignoring Keela's grumble, she gave a smile of triumph when her Princess relaxed against her body and let Fiona run her fingers through her hair. Keela loved it when Fiona did it. It was something Fiona had been doing since Keela was a child; the long fingers of the older woman were always calming as they raked through the golden locks with comforting, soothing stokes.

"You know, your father always found it fascinating how much you look like your mother," she spoke, her fingers curling around a long blond curl. "It amused the clan greatly when you and Fallon grew to look more and more like her ever day, your hair being a clear indication," she said softly, a small smile on her lips as she recalled a younger Keela who had hated her long hair as a child.

Keela smiled. She had been told that her mother had blond wavy hair whereas her father had coarse curly black hair. She and Fallon both had their mother's hair, only apparently more curly. "I wish I could have known her," she said softly after a few moments.

Fiona's fingers paused momentarily before continuing. "I remember she had a beautiful voice, just like you," she said softly. "You know, it was your mother who had sung me to sleep when my mother died," she informed Keela, "almost every night for over a month."

Keela turned in Fiona's lap and frowned. She knew her mother had taken Fiona in as a maid when her own mother had died in childbirth, along with the babe. Her father had been so distraught that he abandoned her out of grief. Fiona had been 12.

"Your father had been right when he said you were your mother, it is as if you are her sometimes. Only, she was as stubborn as a mule and not so tall," Fiona said playfully while looking down at Keela with soft eyes.

Keela chuckled and turned her head so Fiona could continue to play with her hair. Her father had told her long ago that she must have got her calm and collected attributes form him since her mother was always so stubborn. He often said that she drove him to near madness.

Fiona also chuckled. "When your mother was in her fourth moon with you and Fallon, your father use to come to me nearly pulling his hair out demanding that I make her calm down or reason with her." She started to full out laugh now lost in memory. After a few moments, her laughter died and she moved a hand to wipe a stray tear and let out a deep sigh. "But the love your parents had for each other was unlike a love I have ever seen. A love such as theirs was rare in these times," she murmured softly.

"But the point I am trying to make here is that their love had to be earned. They did not love each other in the beginning. In fact, they apparently fought so much that your mother and father sometimes went weeks without speaking. It wasn't until your father was nearly killed that your mother realized just how much she loved him," her voice was soft and smooth as she recalled the tale Keela's mother had once told her.

Keela had her eyes closed, a small smile on her face as Fiona talked about her mother, her father. She loved hearing stories of her mother. It was the memory of the woman her mother was that Keela strived to mirror. Even though her mother was dead, her father never forgot her nor did he allow Keela and Fallon to grow up not knowing just how wonderful their mother truly was. She wanted to honour her mother's memory and make her proud. "Why did you never tell me these things before?" she asked, her head turning to look up at Fiona.

Fiona took a deep breath. "I don't know really," she paused and let Keela take in everything she was saying. She could see Keela dwindling away, drowning in her own agony, and she did not like it. She was worried, as was Guinevere and Vanora, but Fiona more so. She would never have imagined that Keela would be reduced to such a state. Then again, she had no idea of the man Lancelot was nor of the deep longing he had for his Queen. She knew that if she was in Keela's position she would not have been able to handle it.

Keela shook her head and sat up letting out a deep sigh while bringing her knees to her chest. "Fiona, my father did not love another woman nor did my mother love another man. They may have disliked each other in the beginning but they weren't fighting to win affections that were bestowed upon someone else," her words were final and filled with pain. She had half a mind to throw in the fact that Lancelot had plenty of other woman to warm his bed anyway so what was the point of all this. But she didn't for she would not gossip about her husband. She did not want to burden Fiona with that knowledge anyway.

Fiona dropped her hands in her lap and took in Keela's words carefully. She was right and Fiona wasn't sure how to help her in this regard. "All I can say my dear is that you must stay strong. Do not give up. Give him more time to get over this silly infatuation. He will come to see the woman you really are, just you wait," she said confidently, a hand reaching out and stroking Keela's leg.

Keela shot her a disbelieving look. Lancelot was not infatuated he was obsessed, and he wanted to be. That was what Fiona didn't understand, didn't see. Lancelot didn't want anyone but the Queen. He only used the other woman to no doubt to lose himself in and fulfill his demanding needs.

She was giving up. If he was going to be like this, then so be it. She just didn't care anymore. She didn't care about her husband, the mistresses he had, the words he said or didn't say, his obsession with his best friend's wife nor the fact that he disliked her. She was no longer going to try for his affections.

Fiona frowned. Her words seemed to have the opposite affect of what she had hopped. She could see the resolve on Keela's face. This was more of a surprise since Keela never gave up at anything. Yet, it was hard not to understand. She knew Lancelot meant something to Keela, perhaps even loved him, or else she wouldn't be taking his behaviour so hard. She could only hope that Lancelot woke up and realized just how wonderful Keela was for she feared of the consequences.

The sound of Keela's grumbling stomach caused each woman to look down at it then up at each other. "Come child, you are coming to dinner if I have to drag you down there myself," she exclaimed through her chuckles.

Keela allowed Fiona to help her to her feet and moved to her trunk to grab a shawl. "I suppose I am a little hungry," she murmured. She didn't want to go but the truth was she was starving. Perhaps socializing with those who did value her presence would lift her spirits.

Fiona bit her tongue so as to not point out the obvious. Keela had lost weight and it was due to the fact that she had not been eating all that well. She hardly came to the dinning hall and only munched in her room when Fiona made her. "Of course you are," she murmured unable to keep it in any longer. It was a good compromise in her mind.

Keela only looked at Fiona through the reflection of the mirror as she ran a comb through her hair and chose to ignore the older woman's pointed look. "So, how are things with you and a certain giant Knight?" she asked, looping her arm through Fiona's and leading them out of the room.

Fiona closed the door behind her and blushed. She knew Keela had changed the subjected but decided to indulge. She could see the genuine interest in Keela's eyes and therefore she was more than willing to share her new found love for the gentle man.

Keela had a wide smile on her face when she and Fiona entered the dinning hall that was bustling with life. She had enjoyed listening to Fiona gush about Dagonet and was eager to run to the Knight and thank him for making her friend so happy.

No sooner had the pair entered the hall was her name being called out above all the nose. "KEELA!" Bors' boisterous voice boomed causing everyone in the room to go quite and stare at the pair.

Fiona looked around, a slight blush on her cheeks due to the attention while Keela simply glared at Bors who merely shrugged and waived them over.

Keela grumbled under her breath and looked at Fiona, her eyes trailing up when she noticed Dagonet had amazingly appeared.

"Lady Keela," Dagonet greeted politely with a nod of his head, a warm smile on his face.

Keela beamed at the Knight when she saw he was holding Fiona's hand. "Dagonet, it is good to see you," she replied moving to give the older Knight a kiss on his cheek.

Dagonet smiled softly at Keela then looked down at Fiona and back at Keela. Understanding that he wanted to steal Fiona away, Keela's smile only widened. "Do you mind if I escort Fiona?" he asked, his voice telling her that he didn't mind if Keela required Fiona.

Fiona looked at Keela telling her the same thing. She didn't want to abandon Keela should she need comfort but Keela was feeling much better after her talk with Fiona. Shaking her head, she leaned in and kissed Fiona's cheek. "Thank you Fiona, for your love and for always being there," she whispered in the older woman's ear as she embraced her tightly.

Fiona returned the hug and nodded into Keela's shoulder not trusting her voice after hearing such heartfelt words.

Pulling away, Keela nodded to Dagonet. "Take care of her," she said, her voice strong and promising Dagonet she didn't care who he was, she would ruin him if he hurt her Fiona. Not that he ever would, Keela just wanted it to be said.

Fiona huffed playful while Dagonet look completely serious. "I would never do anything but," he replied seriously.

Keela smiled and pat his large arm. "I know," she said softly, her eyes smiling up at the man who had made her friend so happy.

Dagonet cupped Keela's shoulder briefly and inclined his head to her before he wrapped an arm around Fiona and led her away and out of the dinning hall.

Keela watched them leave briefly wondering where they were going before Bors called for her, again, just as loud. Spinning around and noticing that the majority of the were occupants staring at her, she again glared at Bors and marched up to their table. "Bors, honestly," she scolded as she wiggled her way in between Gawain and Galahad who had moved to make room at their table.

Bors, who was sitting across from her, gave her a greasy smile and bit into a large piece of chicken.

Keela chuckled and looked at Galahad as he swung an arm around her shoulders giving it a squeeze before pulling away. "How is our Princess on this gloomy day?" he asked as Gawain mirrored Galahad's embrace.

Keela raised an eyebrow. "Must you always call me that?" she asked looking up at Galahad. He had taken to calling her Princess more than he called her by her actual name. She had figured out that perhaps it was more of a nickname than her title. She was not use to nicknames and wasn't sure if she should like it or not.

Galahad nodded. "Yes," he replied dryly, his eyes glancing at her mischievously over the brim of his mug.

Keela simply laughed. She supposed she would let him call her that, they were good friends after all. She wouldn't be able to get him to stop should she want him to anyway. "I am well. How are all of you?" she asked looking at Galahad then around at the other men, some of whom she did not recognize.

Tristan merely nodded and went back to cutting away at an apple, Bors beamed and continued to eat his chicken, whereas Gawain wrapped his arm around her again and gave her one of his heart warming smiles. "We are doing much better now that our lovely Princess is here," he professed with a wink.

Laughing and feeling a slight blush forming, she brought her hand up and pat Gawain's cheek. "Such sweet words my dear Knight," she replied, a genuine smile on her face. It was nice to hear such things.

Gawain squeezed her shoulders before pulling away and crossing his arms over the table. "Nothing less for the dear lady," he chirped with a wink before launching into a conversation with Bors and Galahad.

Smiling and thanking the maid who placed a plate of food in front of her, she looked up and smiled at Guinevere and Arthur when they nodded at her and returned to their conversation.

She enjoyed the easy atmosphere that the dinning hall brought. Unlike the counsel room and its roundtable and the extravagant banquet hall, Arthur insisted on a comfortable room to dine in that was separate. The dinning room was set up much like a tavern where the Knights could just relax and enjoy the evening without having to brave the outside weather to do so.

Telling herself it was only out of habit, Keela's eyes began to search for Lancelot. He was where he usually was when he was not at the Knights table…playing a game of dice with some of the younger Knights, and of course, a few maids leering around him.

"Keela!"

Keela tore her eyes away from Lancelot and looked up at Vanora who had plunked a slobbering 12 in Bors' arms. She couldn't help but smile as Bors easily manoeuvred the child in one arm before continuing to eat. The little boy had quite the set of lungs on him and was very demanding thus taking up so much of his mother's time. Keela had learned the day she met him that unless a parent was holding him or within his sights, he screamed and screamed and screamed.

Vanora leaned over Bors' head and smiled fondly at the Princess. "Would you like something to drink since I am up lass?" she asked kindly. She was simply thrilled that Fiona had been able to get Keela to join them that evening.

Keela looked over at Gawain who held up his mug asking for ale since she was offering then back at Vanora. "I'll have ale too please."

Vanora blinked a few times before she moved to the bar to gather the drinks. The occupants of the table were not as quick to recover though and simply stared at Keela.

Keela grinned mischievously as she glanced around, her previous mood being pushed to the back of her mind. "What?" she asked with a grin. Fiona wasn't around to flash her disapproving looks so she was going to indulge. She was going to start enjoying herself and that was that. "Do your women not drink here?" she asked challengingly, flashing a quick look to Guinevere who had a grin forming.

Bors quickly recovered and shook his head. "Not usually no," he replied truthfully. Only his Van and on occasion Guinevere indulged in ale; he hadn't even dreamed of Keela enjoying a man's drink. Actually, as he thought about it, he didn't know much about the Princess.

Keela just winked at Bors and smiled at Vanora as she placed the mug in front of her. Flashing them all a knowing grin, she brought the mug to her lips and began to down the ale as if it were water.

Realising that she wasn't going to come up for air when her head began to tilt back, Bors lead the Knights in a fit of encouraging roars while they pounded their fists into the table.

Keela smiled against the rim of her mug and when she was finished, slammed it onto the table and took a dramatic breath, her face beaming as more hollers erupted from the men.

As if understanding the excitement, 12 clapped his little hands together in glee while letting out a high pitched squeal of delight only earning more laughter from the table.

Lancelot along with the entire table of men he was sitting with had watched Keela and all were looking at her in shock. No one had yet to witness such a public display from the Princess since she had talked back to him in front of everyone at their engagement dinner. Needless to say, he was quite stunned.

He had heard Bors announce her arrival earlier and for some reason it only angered him. She had been short with him earlier and he did not know what he had done to deserve it. Though, he suspected his own tone had done nothing to encourage her. But still, he had made an attempt and she had brushed it off as if he had not spoken at all. Now here she was, clearly enjoying herself with everyone else, a genuine smile gracing her face. He had to admit, it was nice to hear her laughing.

His brows furrowed together and his jaw clenched when Galahad wrapped his arm around Keela's body and ruffled her hair playfully. A feeling he was all too familiar with suddenly came bubbling forth and made his blood boil. He was jealous. It shocked him for it was a feeling that had never been directed towards her but to the woman who was currently laughing at something her husband had said.

Galahad hooked his arm around Keela's neck when she asked for another ale and chuckled. It was good to see her like this, a smile on her face, a gleam in her eyes. "Am I going to have to carry you back to your chambers tonight?" he teased.

Keela shrugged his arm off her shoulders while reaching out for the bun on her plate. She ripped a shred off then placed a strip of chicken and cheese on top. "Please, the fact that I am Irish alone is enough to tell you that I can drink any of you under the table," she said with a confident grin before taking a bit. She knew she really couldn't, these men were huge; though, she could drink more than they probably expected since she did grow up around men and warriors.

Tristan raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Really?" he asked challengingly. It was certainly something to claim since her size was significantly smaller.

Keela gave a slight smirk while she swallowed her food. "More than you would expect," she replied taking another bite of food.

Vanora chuckled from behind Bors and was about to say something when a heard of wails reached their ears and the entire hall parted allowing a group of children to run screaming and crying straight for them.

The entire Knights table, including Keela who nearly chocked on her food due to the unexpected noise, was on their feet. Bors had no sooner shoved 12 in Guinevere's arms did a small boy and girl fly into his arms while another small girl flew into Vanora's, both girls sobbing while the little boy frantically spit out words while trying to catch his breath.

Keela and the others all crowded around the group worried that something horrible had happened. The entire hall had also quite as the other occupants were so concerned since the children were still wailing and talking gibberish to their parents.

Galahad looked down at Lucan who stood close to Keela. "Lucan what happened?" he asked bending down to the small boy not being able get nothing out of what the other three children were saying.

Lucan swallowed and looked at Galahad with sad eyes, then up at Keela and then behind them.

Both adults turned and saw little 10 standing quietly outside the group sopping wet, her head down and dirt all over her dress.

Keela's heart burst at the sight and was instantly crouching in front of the little girl who was clearly trying hard not to sob. "10 love, are you alright?" she asked softly, pulling the shawl off her body and wrapping it tightly around the shivering girl.

10 sniffed and looked at Keela with nothing but hurt and pain in her soft brown orbs and simply stared, her chin quivering.

Keela cradled 10's face and waited patiently for her to find her voice. The two had grown awfully close the past few days and Keela cared deeply for her. She was a lovely little thing. 10 looked just like her mother in every way only the little girl had a birth mark in the shape of a tear drop under her right eye. She had only found out from Jols the previous day that it was a major reason why many of the other children made fun of her. That had been when Keela figured out truly why 10 hid herself so much.

When she noticed the tears finally falling down 10's face, Keela held open her arms and the little girl launched into them instantly. It was then the damn brooke and 10 let out heart wrenching sobs as she wrapped her little legs and arms around Keela's body, clutching to her tightly.

Keela stood and looked sadly at Galahad then down at a sad looking Lucan as she rubbed 10's back in soothing circles while murmuring softly in her ear.

"The roman children were making fun of her again," Lucan informed the pair as they continued to stand slightly away from the others.

Keela's eyes darkened. She disliked the Roman families who lived in Camelot, including their children. They acted as if Rome still had a powerful hold over Britain and it annoyed her to no end. Needless to say, she avoided them like the plague they were.

Galahad sighed and looked sadly at 10. "The Roman children make it their mission to torment the others, especially little 10," he informed her. "Just like their damn parents," he grumbled darkly for Keela's ears only.

Keela nodded against 10's head. Galahad and apparently Lancelot were the most vocal about their hatred towards the Roman families and she could easily understand why. This only fuelled her hatred for the Romans and she made a promise that the next time this happened she would be having a little chat with them.

Lucan looked sadly at 10 as she clutched to Keela and blushed slightly when Keela met his eyes and gave him a warm smile. "They were also throwing rocks at her when we found her," he said nodding to where 8 and 9 were now retelling the story having calmed. "But 7 and I saved her," he said proudly, his back straightening.

Keela gave Lucan a proud smile as did Galahad who ruffled his hair. She was just about to praise him when the entire group flocked around them, Bors and Vanora still holding their children while looking concerned down at 10 who was clinging to Keela as if her life depended on it.

"10 love," Vanora cooed softly, "Are you alright?" she asked, her face set with motherly worry for her baby.

Bors, however, had a mixture of pride and hatred on his face as he set a now squirming 7 on the ground but continued to clutch 9 protectively. He was proud of 7 and Lucan but he was ready to tear ever Roman limb-from-limb and give their children a good beating for even thinking of harming one of his own. His eyes scanned the room as if looking for said Romans. Fortunately for them, they had not come to dine that evening.

10 took a big sniff and lifted her head off of Keela's shoulder and looked up through her mass of hair. Keela gave her a reassuring smile and pushed her hair aside as the little girl nodded sheepishly. It was then though that she realized everyone was staring at her. Her eyes immediately went wide before she buried her head into Keela's hair, her grip tightening.

Keela simply kissed 10's head and continued to rub her back. "There, there love," she soothed.

Bors and Vanora looked at each other shocked then back at Keela. "Seems the little lass is quite taken with ya," Bors stated, nodding to his daughter who never took to anyone.

Keela smiled and looked down at 10 then back at Bors. "We have been spending quite a bit of time together," she informed them.

Vanora smiled as she ran a free hand down 10's back in a motherly fashion. "She doesn't trust so easily," she said almost in awe that her daughter was latched on to Keela. "Do you mind holding her? I don't think she is going to let you go any time soon," she said, her facile expression telling Keela that she didn't have to.

Keela smiled and kissed 10 on the head again while wrapping the shawl around her small body tighter. "She can stay here as long as she likes," she said warmly.

Vanora just leaned in and kissed Keela on the cheek. "Thank you," she said softly, tears in her eyes. It meant so much more than that and both women knew it.

Lancelot, who had now moved over to the group when the children came running in, couldn't help but stare at 10 while she continued to cling to Keela as his wife rocked her softly. She was sitting next to Galahad and had Lucian and 7 sitting on the bench between them talking up a storm with the two adults. He hid a smile behind the rim of his mug as the two boys stared at Keela with wide eyes and blushes when she complemented them on something. He actually found it amusing.

He looked her over and really took her in. Her hair was down and hung loosely down her back and was wearing a simple gown that showed off nothing but her shapely figured. She looked so simple and yet so very beautiful. He could see why everyone was so taken with her, her soft yet firm features were something to be desired.

He had not failed to notice all the looks she got from the men nor had he failed to hear all the things the younger men were saying about her. The younger ones always thought he wasn't listening when they watched her walk by or when they simply gossiped about the new Princess and her beauty. Everyone was quite taken with her and he felt a sense of pride knowing that she was his wife, whether he acknowledged that or not.

Hearing a high pitched squeal of laughter, his eyes left his wife's form and darted to where Arthur and Guinevere sat, a frown immediately finding its way to his face. Guinevere was holding up a giggling 12, who for once wasn't screaming at being in someone else's arms, while Arthur leaned over, his chin resting on her shoulder, and tickled the little boy's sides. Once again, he felt his chest constrict with an unbearable longing as he watched.

Keela chose that moment to look over at Lancelot and followed his line of sight. Shaking her head, she felt her stomach drop as she once again allowed herself to watch her husband staring longingly at Guinevere. She was so weak, she hated it.

"They were laughing at me," a small voice crocked in her ear suddenly startling her.

Keela's head snapped down and looked back up at Galahad who had also heard and was looking sadly at 10 along with 7 and Lucan.

10 shifted in Keela's arms so she was now sitting in Keela's lap, and resting her back against Keela chest facing the table so she could see Galahad, 7 and Lucan. "They were making fun of my mark and being Sarmation," she said softly before bringing a hand up and wiping her nose on the sleeve of her dress.

Keela's face fell even more hearing those words and looked up at Vanora and Bors who, along with the other occupants at the table, had gone silent having heard the little girl finally speak.

10 grabbed a long strand of Keela's hair and started to wrap the curls around her little fingers. She could feel everyone looking at her and it was making her uncomfortable. Feeling Keela's fingers running through her own hair, she looked up and gave her a small smile. She had quickly grown to love Keela for she had been so kind to her, taking her to Mona everyday and just being with her.

Keela gave 10 a reassuring smile and wrapped her shawl tighter around 10's small body for comfort while she focused on Keela's hair.

"They said I was ugly and stupid," her voice started to crack and tears were once again forming her eyes.

"Thhattt's…wh…whe….when they started throwing rocks at me," she cried out in one breath before she buried her face in Keela's chest.

Keela pulled 10 away and lifted her up resting her bum on the edge of the table so she could look into the little girl's eyes. Reaching up, she tucked 10's hair behind her ears and wiped her tears away. "10, you are not in any means ugly and you certainly are not stupid," she stated firmly yet gently.

The little girl shook her head unbelieving, her hair once again falling to hide her face. Keela looked up past 10 to see tears flow down Vanora's cheeks and a crushed look on Bors' face while both parents clutched 8 and 9.

Looking back at 10, Keela removed the little girl's hand where she had moved it to cover her mark. "10, look at uncle Tristan," she said surprising the entire table as they all turned to look at Tristan who raised his eyebrow questioningly at Keela.

Keela smiled at Tristan. "You see the marks on his face?" she asked looking down at 10 then back at Tristan whose head was now cocked to the side in confusion. Why did she have to bring him into this he grumbled to himself.

10 looked at Tristan for a moment then back at Keela and nodded.

"His marks may be different than yours but they are just as beautiful. They even make him all the more handsome," she gave Tristan a wink as he shook his head, his lips curled in a small smile. "They are part of him. They symbolize who he is and are something to be proud of," she continued looking back at 10. "To have markings is a great honour as is to be Sarmation," she looked back up at Tristan who gave her a genuine smile. He understood where she was going with this.

10 snapped her head back to look at Tristan as if looking at him in a whole new light, her face instantly brightening when she received a small smile from the Scout and a nod.

"So you see 10," Keela said catching the little girl's attention. "Your mark makes you special. The Gods have blessed you with your own mark for all to see so we know just how special you are. This makes you twice as beautiful," she exclaimed, her voice convincing while she ran her thumb over 10's mark.

A smile was now forming on 10's lips.

"And you know what?" Keela asked while leaning in as if she were about to divulge a valued secret. 10 shook her head 'no' and also leaned in, her eyes wide in anticipation. "People who do not understand this, like those Roman children, are cowards. They may tease you and make fun of you, but they are just jealous of who and what you are," she finished, her lips curling up in triumph when 10's back straightened.

She was going to make sure that 10 never felt like this again and straightened her back as well. "Now, you hold her head up proud, for you are daughter and niece to the greatest Sarmation Knights that ever lived." 10, along with the other children began to look around the table.

"You have a family here who all love you, little Knights who fight to protect you." She smiled as her, 10, and everyone looked at the beaming faces of 7 and Lucian who sat up straighter with proud looks on their beaming faces having understood their part. Galahad chuckled and ruffled each boys head.

Turning back to 10, she smiled as the little girl started to perk up now fully realizing what Keela was saying. "Now look at Guinevere," she said earning an odd look from the Queen who sat next to a beaming Arthur.

"She was a Woad and you can see how proud she is to be who she is," she earned a beam from Guinevere as she nodded at 10 who was staring at her Queen in awe. "Her people were oppressed by the Romans just as much as Sarmations were. But you see, that only made her stronger and look at the beautiful woman she is today." She paused to let her words sink in for the four year old that seemed to understand more than just the world around her as she looked at Guinevere. "This too will make you stronger little one," she finished finally.

10 just beamed a smile that none of them had ever seen as she turned to look at all the occupants of the table, along with Lucan 7, 8 and 9, as if truly seeing them for the first time before settling on her parents who both had tears in their eyes. Flashing them an equally large smile, she launched into Keela's arms and held her tightly. "I love you," she said truthfully as she kissed Keela on the cheek and rested her head on the Irish woman's shoulder.

Keela also smiled a smile they had yet to see as she held the little girl and kissed her hair. "And I you my little friend," she said as she rocked the little girl and held her tight.

The entire table was stunned in awed silence as they digested what the latest addition to their family had said about them.

Lancelot was speechless, having long ago dropped his jaw in shock. He didn't think he had ever heard anything so beautiful in his entire life. The words she had said and the way she had said them were as if the Goddess herself were speaking. They were powerful, tender, loving and strong and were said with such conviction it would be near impossible not to believe her. It was at that moment, he felt his heart start to reach out to her for the first time.

_I know, another chapter of fluff, but this was needed. Anyway, please REVIEW!!! I am getting lots of hits but not many reviews….is it a lot to ask? _


	7. Chapter 7

_Okay, don't hate me. I am even lucky to get this chapter up. My computer has been royally screwed over and has taken forever to get fixed, which it still isn't but right now it is cooperating at the moment. _

_I want to apologize though for the late update. My sister-in-law who is one of my best friends had a kidney transplant, given by her mother, after suffering her entire 20 years of life. The surgery went well but her body began rejecting the anti rejection drugs so our family has been very stressed trying to make her as comfortable as possible and provide as much encouragement as she needs. She is doing better now, thank goodness, and is still the happy bundle of life who is the best trooper I know. _

_So, because you have all be so understanding and patient, her is a really long chapter for you and I hope you like it. It is a pivotal moment in the story and I hope I got it right. Let me know your thoughts. _

_I will be updating my other stories soon as well._

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Keela shifted her weight, the cushioned chair doing nothing to ease her aching backside. She despised these chairs; the low back's, the short arm rests and the cushion that was too big. All-in-all, the chair was obviously not made for comfort and this only added to her already dissipating mood.

After finding a suitable position which would no doubt last a matter of minutes, Keela again glanced at the man next to her who looked equally uncomfortable.

She was still baffled, shocked actually, by the sudden change of demeanour, by his sudden acknowledgement of her presence. Actually, as she looked around the room and took in the King and Queen, five other Knights and two pompous Roman ambassadors, she wasn't sure if she should be more shocked to be here or by the man next to her.

This day was certainly one to mark.

Like every morning when she awoke, her hand, with a mind of its own, had stretched out to the opposite side of the bed only this time instead of meeting cold sheets, she was met with a warm, hard body.

In all her life, she had never been so startled. She had very nearly jumped out of her skin when her eyes snapped open and took in the godlike form of Lancelot. His face had been so peaceful, so serene Keela had dared to reach out and touch a lock of his luscious curls that were dangling across his forehead.

So uncomfortable with the fact that he was still in bed, next to her for that matter and clearly sleeping peacefully, Keela had fled the room with earnest haste. She didn't know what to make of the situation and she had barely found comfort in Mona who had been more than eager to see her that early in the morning.

Tormented in her thoughts, she had then been startled when Lancelot had sought her out and had the audacity to ask her where she had fled to so early in the morning. She once again had been so stunned that she never got a chance to reply before he informed her that he and Arthur had thought it be best if she sat in on the council meetings that they held with just the original Knights.

He had explained that they thought it best she knew the dynamics of the City, her being a Princess and all. Overlooking the fact that she already knew such things, she was hardly able to give this new development any thought since Lancelot's behaviour had baffled her beyond comprehension.

She had numbly let him escort her to the round table and stared dumbstruck when he led her to sit next to him instead of her usual place next to Guinevere.

So, here she sat in an extremely uncomfortable chair, still shocked, slightly unnerved and utterly confused. Barley retaining the irritated sigh that wanted to escape, Keela shifted once again in the insufferable chair and glanced around the room.

Bors, who looked nothing less than board, had his arms crossed over his large chest and was currently fighting a battle to keep his eyes open and his head up.

Dagonet, of course, was very attentive and awake and currently doing his brotherly duty by ensuring Bors didn't actually fall asleep.

Tristan looked passive as usual, his signature dagger in his hands that at the moment was cleaning the grim from beneath his fingernails. What amused her though was that ever few moments the scout would look up from beneath his lashes and, if one was not paying attention it would be missed, a ghost of a smile would spread when he witnessed Dagonet elbowing Bors in the side in an attempt to keep the large man awake.

Galahad, who was seated next to her, did nothing to hide his disinterest in the meeting and was currently slumped over the table, his elbow propped up to hold his head while his other hand traced the carvings on the edge of the table.

She couldn't quite see Gawain due to the fact that he was also slumped over and next to Galahad but she was sure that the longhaired Knight was currently glaring at the two Romans who he repeatedly reminded everyone were nothing better than pigs.

It was Arthur and Guinevere who had immediately captured her attention this morning. Casting another side glance, she could tell that Guinevere looked tired. There were circles under her eyes, she was slightly paler than normal and the Queen was doing everything in her power not to smile. It was easy to tell, her lips were always twitching and she was constantly glancing at Arthur which only seemed to make the twitching worse.

But what really caught her attention was the fact that Guinevere had not removed her hand from her stomach and currently was slowly rubbing small circles. Arthur, despite the fact that he was dutifully engrossed in the boring meeting, would every so often glance at her hand and although he wouldn't smile, his eyes seemed to be glistening with emotion. It was easy to miss, but the small signs gave them away.

Still staring at the discreet King and Queen, she felt Lancelot shift next to her and glanced up at him only to catch him eyeing her out of the corner of his eyes. Feeling unnerved under this new look he was giving her, she once again shifted so that majority of her body was facing away from him. She didn't like this new attention he seemed to be giving her today. He had spoken and even looked at her more than he had since she had first arrived and she didn't know what to think about it. She didn't even know if she should like it. It bothered her.

She could tell he was put out by the meeting. No doubt because once again Connor and Pontius, two Roman nobles sent to Britain as ambassadors of peace, had insisted on sitting in on the private, exclusive meeting.

Having only been half paying attention to the discussion swirling around her, Keela's back immediately straightened when the conversation suddenly shifted from discussing the latest shipment of goods to Rome to Connor demanding the training schedules for the army both inside the City and the ones held outside the City.

She couldn't believe that he would even think of requesting such information but what shocked her was the fact that Dagonet answered instantly, giving a brief report to satisfy the overly dressed Roman.

It was Pontius' question that really troubled her.

"What has Camelot planned in case of an invasion or attack? Are their battle strategies in place? Do your warriors know them? How is your armoury supply?" he asked as if inquiring about the weather.

Keela's eyes widened and snapped around to look at Arthur who was actually opening his mouth to answer. Unable to stop herself, she sucked in a deep breath. "Arthur," she suddenly addressed surprising everyone in the room.

Meeting Guinevere's confused look briefly, she shifted to stare at Arthur. "Yes Keela?" he asked, his head cocked to the side in wonder.

Keela looked to the two Roman ambassadors who were giving her what they obviously hopped to be disapproving looks before looking back at Arthur. "May I ask a question?" she asked not sure if she was permitted to speak at these meetings, this being her first one. She hadn't heard Guinevere say anything so she was taking a serious leap of faith here. At least she asked she thought. If she were home she simply would have interrupted with her question. Mind you, if she were home ambassadors would know not to ask such questions since it was painfully obvious they were not privy to such information.

The men needed to know that.

Arthur glanced at his men who were all staring at Keela in waiting; even Bors was now fully awake and curious as to what she had to say. He was not use to this. If Guinevere always had an opinion she usually shared it with him first or after a meeting. Looking at Lancelot, he saw the confusion but also intrigue on the man's face. It was obvious that everyone was eager to here Keela's question, well despite Connor and Pontius but he could careless about their thoughts. Receiving an encouraging look and nod from Guinevere he turned back and smiled at Keela. "Of course you may. What is it you do not understand?" he asked obviously assuming she did not understand the dynamics of their discussion.

Before Keela could even open her mouth however Pontius beat her to it.

"My lord, the Lady should not worry over such things. These meetings are no place for women anyway," he said hotly, his chubby chin raised as if he were addressing the lowliest of men. "Especially this Irish woman," he spat, his eyes narrowing as he glared at Keela.

Connor nodded his approval to his companion's statement and gave Keela a condescending look.

Keela's brow furrowed in anger and felt Galahad tense next to her but before anyone could retort, a sharp voice rang throughout the hall shocking everyone, especially Keela.

"Watch yourself Roman for my wife, Princess of Camelot, has every right to be here. It is you who has no place at these meetings and you would do well to remember that," Lancelot spoke with venom, his piercing dark eyes glaring daggers at Pontius and Connor who both began to shift uncomfortably in their chairs.

Keela turned to look at Lancelot not sure if she had dreamt the entire moment. She looked to Arthur and Guinevere who were also staring at Lancelot but with appreciative and proud smiles on their beautiful faces. Would the surprises never cease she wondered as she looked back at Lancelot who was staring at her as if he had never spoken.

Lancelot clenched his fists to prevent himself from launching over the table and strangling the chubby Romans. But when he caught sight of the disbelieving and all around shocked look on Keela's face, his anger dissipated and he was consumed with…hurt? He actually found himself hurt that she had expected him not to stick up for her. No doubt she was expecting Galahad, Gawain or even Arthur to stick up for her but not him, her own husband. "You may ask you question," he said nodding to the table of men she was to address.

Keela blinked and turned to the table. "Yes, thank you Lancelot," she said softly nodding to him so he would know she indeed meant it. She wanted to clutch her chest for she was soaring with hope that perhaps Lancelot was coming around. But as quickly as the fluttering came it dimmed and was replaced with dread. Of course he was only speaking up because it was the Romans who had said these things. Had anyone else spoken to her in such a manner he probably wouldn't have batted an eye.

Gritting her teeth, she straightened her back and chastised herself for such ridiculous thinking. "Correct me if I am wrong, but are you two gentlemen not ambassadors for Rome? Representatives of peace?" she asked in a dry voice, her question earning a number of equally questioning looks.

Of course her question was an obvious one but she had reasons for it.

Connor snorted, his double chin bobbing from the motion. Pontius' words were indeed proven correct that this woman, this Irish whore, was indeed nothing but that. "My lady," he sneered obviously put out that he had to address her as such, "I thought we established this upon our meeting when you first arrived at Camelot," he stated as if addressing scum, which she was in his eyes.

Keela heard Galahad suck in a deep breath and put her hand on his forearm giving him a reassuring smile. Receiving a nod, she tuned back at Connor and flashed a sneering grin that had even Tristan raising an eyebrow. "Yes, _my lord_," she retorted, her voice dripping with venom, "I simply wished to establish the fact that you are peaceful representatives for Rome; therefore, what use to you is the information regarding Camelot's armies? If Rome and yourselves hold no interest in this country, a country may I point out that Rome has no claim over, then why do you insist on knowing the size of the army, training and scouting schedules, armoury inventory and such? If Camelot, Britain, is at peace with Rome than that should be all that concerns you," her voice was steady and knowing, her look smug.

The entire hall was silent as everyone looked at Keela with surprise then at Connor and Pontius, who were both looking at each other with concern, then at Keela again who never took her eyes off either man.

Guinevere simply beamed as she shifted in her seat and waited for the answer. That was a good question.

Lancelot was stunned once again by the words that came out of his wife's mouth. He was sure now that there would never be a time when she did not amaze him. He couldn't help but smile and puff out his chest knowing that his wife, the goddess next to him, had made a very smart observation and knocked these two Romans, whom he had despised since the very moment he saw them, down a peg or two.

Arthur was the first to recover and cleared his throat catching Keela's attention. He was surprised as well but his interests were suddenly peeked. She made a good point, a very good point. Why did they care so much? He had never really thought much of it. He had simply thought that Rome was keeping tabs on the country for allied purposes. Still, the way she said it… "I believe the Princess asked you a question," he said nodding to a still silent Connor and Pontius. He looked at Keela who had a small smile on her face and returned it. Something told him he would be including her in many more meetings.

Pontius gave Keela a pointed look. "We are simply concerned for the Roman citizens and the lands we posses. With the Saxon's still plundering the countryside and the new Irish threat, we simply want to be reassured that we are protected, that Rome's interests are protected," he replied knowingly.

Everyone now looked back at Keela, each of them sitting erect and alert. It was more than obvious that the speech was rehearsed.

Keela nodded knowingly. "And you have every right to be concerned; however, I do not see how such detailed information regarding Camelot's defences and resources concern you," she held up her hand when Connor went to open his mouth.

"And again, correct me if I am wrong, but are your lands not bestowed upon you by the King?" she raised an eyebrow, "Did Rome not give up their lands, rights to it and anything of the like when they withdrew from Britain? As such, 'your lands', as you call them, do not belong to you or Rome meaning you hold no interest in them, Rome holds on interest in them, unless they are purchased in the same manner as any other man would," she finished with a stern look that told the two Romans she was more than prepared to continue this argument should they find any retort.

In her Clan, this type of information was only shared with Generals and the Royal family. It was not something you shared with foreigners, no matter what peace they clamed to bring. She thought Arthur a fool for trusting these men, Romans for that matter. When had any Roman especially a politician proved trustworthy?

Again, the entire room was speechless for Keela had just raised a very important fact and brought attention to a matter that before hand had never been considered. Every month the Romans asked the same questions, demanded to be informed and when questioned, their rehearsed answers had never been doubted. But now…

Keela turned to Guinevere who had the biggest grin on her face then to Arthur who looked thoughtful, yet astonished, then back at the two Romans. "Well?" she asked, her posture still immaculate, her face still masked other than her piercing eyes. "Do you not have any plausible reason as to why you, Rome, deserves to know such information?" she again asked leaning slightly forward, the irritation showing through.

Pontius' nostrils flared in rage as he glared at Keela before snapping his head to Arthur. "Arthur, how can you sit there and let this…this…heathen woman," he spat nodding to Keela, "dare talk, question us, men of Rome, in such a manner?" he snarled pointing a chubby, accusing finger in her direction.

This time every Knight stood, their fists slamming the table in warning.

Gawain had to grab Galahad when he all but flew out of his chair. "You watch your mouth Roman for you are the heathen," Galahad roared trying to shove Gawain away. "Rome holds no meaning here," he hissed now simply pushing against Gawain's restraints.

Keela, however, was looking at Lancelot who was leaning over the table, his clenched fists holding up his weight, his face nothing less then murderous as he glared at Pontius. Again, she was struck dumb by his actions. Never in all the months had she been here had he even reacted to anything negative spoken against her.

"Galahad, sit down," Arthur yelled also standing and nodding to Bors who had pulled out his dagger to do the same.

The larger Knight grumbled under his breath but slammed back into his chair, however, his dagger stayed in his hands as he glared at the two Roman's, his eyes conveying the warning they held. "Say anything like that again," he growled in warning, his large fist flexing around the hilt of his long dagger.

Galahad shook off his tunic when Gawain let him go and flashed Keela a sympathetic look before returning to his seat. He knew what it felt like to be called such things and knew that Keela was anything but. He would not allow anyone, anyone, to talk to her or even about her in such a manner.

Keela though never took her eyes off Lancelot who was still standing. "I will not say this again Romans," he hissed, his eyes flickering between both men. "You will watch what you say to her, or anyone of the Court for that matter," he snarled, his dark eyes now a piercing black as they burned holes in the two men. No one in the room needed clarification for the underlying threat that lay hidden in his words.

"Now," he said lowly, as he unclenched his fists and sprawled his fingers out over the smooth surface, "as for her question, I think it is a very good one. What reasons do you have for such information?" he asked leaning forward as if to intimidate them all the more.

Connor swallowed hard and looked around the room. Each knight was glaring at them. The giant Knight even looked ready to pummel him and he didn't even dare look at the scout, the man just made his skin crawl. "Arthur?" he squeaked.

Arthur shook his head. "You are lucky to be still sitting here Connor," he nodded to Pontius to note this included him as well. "For if anyone else, I would have let my Knights behead you for talking to your Princess in such a manner," his tone was cold and harsh, his intense green eyes equally harsh.

He looked at Guinevere who had her jaw clenched and then at Keela who didn't look at all perturbed by the outburst.

"I think you owe the Princess an apology," Guinevere's queenly voice echoed throughout the room earning grins from the Knights.

Pontius once again shared a look with Connor then looked back at Arthur and, much to his displeasure, inclined his head towards Keela. "Of course, my apologies…your highness," he said gravely, his face showing the pain he felt for having to utter such words to her.

Keela simply looked at Pontius with evident distain then to Connor who simply nodded along. There was something about these two men that she immediately did not trust, not that she ever did in the first place; but based on their reactions to her questions, the fact that Pontius had tried to redirect the conversation by insulting her, proved that there was certainly some underlying motives.

Arthur cleared his throat hiding his smile when Keela simply looked indifferent at having received the false and forced apology. He could see that they were not going to get any clear answer from Pontius and Connor and knew that with the Knights already fully prepared to gut the two men, perhaps now was a time to end the meeting. He would, however, keep this conversation in mind and recall it at a later date when he was sure bloodshed could be avoided. "Perhaps now would be a good time to leave us," he stated looking at Connor and Pontius who looked ready to protest.

Holding up his hand, he glared when the two men shut their mouths but did nothing to hide their displeasure at having been dismissed. "You may leave us now," he emphasized, his tone leaving no room for argument as he nodded to the doors.

Reluctantly, both men nodded mumbled their departures and left the room holding their chubby heads high.

Once the doors slammed behind them, Bors let out a dramatic sigh and slumped as far down in the uncomfortable chair as he could. "Praise the Gods," he yelled out earning a chuckle from a number of the men.

Arthur ignored the comment and looked at Keela. "I apologize for their behaviour," he said gravely.

Keela simply waved it off. "It is not your fault Arthur," she dismissed. She had met many Romans in her time along with other Celts who had spat worse insults.

There as still a slight air of tension in the room as everyone pondered over the meeting. Once again shifting uncomfortably in her chair, Keela let out an irritated huff and quirked an eyebrow when everyone looked at her. "Honestly Arthur, you would think you would invest in chairs that are much more comfortable," she exclaimed wiggling in her seat and scrunching her nose for emphasis.

Her jest immediately had the desired effect and everyone chuckled.

Arthur sighed and nodded. "I suppose they are a tad uncomfortable," he muttered and waved to a servant who was standing at the doors. "Galvin, please send for Vanora and Fiona and alert the staff we will eat in here please," he requested.

Galvin nodded and scurried out the doors to do as bid.

In no time at all Vanora and Fiona entered the room, earning beams from both Dagonet and Bors who immediately went to great the two women, along with a slew of maids who placed a plate full of food in front of each them.

"So tell us about Ireland."

Keela looked up from her plate at Galahad startled by the question that seemed to come out of nowhere. Swallowing, she glanced at the others in the room who had stopped talking and were all waiting patiently for her to speak.

She was confused by the question but now as she thought about it, she realized that not many knew much about her, about her home. She supposed it was partially her fault since she had been so distant and depressed. "What do you wish to know?" she asked as she wiped her mouth with her napkin and smiled her thanks to a maid who removed her finished plate.

Galahad shrugged. "What is the country like?" he asked popping a grape in his mouth.

All saw a sparkle of light ignite in Keela's eyes as she beamed. "Much like Britain actually, lush green plains surrounded by rocky mountains and forests bustling with life," she informed fondly.

"And the weather?" Gawain asked dryly earning a chuckle from the others.

Keela giggled already knowing the Knights distaste for the constant rainy weather of Britain. "I am afraid it is much the same…perhaps not as rainy but just as foggy, cold and windy," she said looking to Fiona who nodded in agreement.

"I hear Christianity is starting to become popular," Arthur piped up leaning back in his chair and grabbing Guinevere's hand.

Keela saw Lancelot roll his eyes and cocked her head to the side wondering why. "It is, many are converting," she replied looking back at Arthur.

Lancelot looked at Keela raising an expectant eyebrow. "And what of you?" he asked, his voice telling her much depended on her answer.

Keela cocked her head to the side and searched Lancelot's eyes. She was confused by the sudden change of demeanour. "I have retained my Pagan beliefs but would it matter if I was a Christian?" she challenged, her chin slightly raised.

Lancelot smirked, tilted his body and leaned an elbow on the arm rest of the chair so he could view her better. "Perhaps, but then again," he turned his head and chuckled at Arthur, "at least you would have someone to pray with. Perhaps two praying to one God would get better results," he mocked before turning back at Keela.

Keela frowned. She did not embrace the Christian faith, nor had any from her Clan having chosen to retain the religion of their ancestors. That did not mean she didn't respect Christians. She did not appreciate the comment, at all. "Do you mock your King's religion?" she asked daringly, cocking an eyebrow in anticipation.

The entire table was silent as Lancelot flashed a dangerous glare. "I do for I have no faith in a God that requires his subjects to kneel before him and perform inhuman acts to others all because they choose not to follow him," he hissed.

Arthur's eyes blazed but a firm hand from his wife and a stern look from Keela silenced him and nodded for the Irish woman to continue.

Keela sat up straighter in her chair fully intent on tearing into her husband. "Just because one chooses to put their faith and kneel before the God they love and trust does not make them any less of a man, or woman. You cannot judge all Christians because a few have committed injustices in the name of their God," she replied firmly.

Lancelot raised an eyebrow. "Really?" he asked, his tone condescending and warning her he was not pleased with her public display.

But such looks were frivolous for they had no effect. She was not easily intimidated and she was certainly not one to back down from any sort of sparring match, verbal or physical. "Arthur's God gives him something to believe in, guidelines to live by and a sense of comfort knowing that there is a higher purpose who is listening to him. You say his God wills him to perform evil acts? But how can you sit here and mock a God that promotes peace and equality, love and unity? What exactly does this table stand for in which you sit so proudly at, if not the teachings of Arthur's God?" She grinned slyly at the dumbfounded look on Lancelot's face.

Arthur straightened in his chair and squeezed Guinevere's hand while beaming proudly at Keela, inclining his head in gratitude. It was nice to have someone else defend his faith, and someone who didn't even practice it for that matter. It just proved how humble his new Princess was and he was all the more grateful for her.

Lancelot clenched his jaw. This was not how he foresaw the morning going. It had been going somewhat well, aside from the two Romans he wanted to flail alive. But now his anger was directed, once again, solely at her. She knew nothing, _nothing_, about how much he truly hated this subject. "Have you ever seen the evils that men perform in the name of Arthur's God?" he spat viciously. "Ask Guinevere and she will tell you the vile acts committed against her all because she chose not to follow their God and then perhaps you will not be so quick to open your mouth," his voice had risen as each word left his mouth and was now practically yelling at Keela. Without even realising it, he had leaned closer to her and glared nothing but hate.

Fiona let out a disapproving gasp and was about to stand when Dagonet put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head for her to stay. This was their fight and they needed to finish it.

Keela swallowed and made sure to keep the hurt she was feeling having heard such words and seen the emotion in his eyes hidden. It was so painfully clear now why he felt so sensitive on the subject. It was Guinevere. It always came back to Guinevere. But had she not told herself that she no longer cared, that she no longer gave a damn? She knew she was fooling herself, she always cared. But she was certainly not going to sit here and let his ridiculous infatuation cloud logic.

Keela flashed Guinevere a sincere look having been told by the Queen of the horrible injustices she suffered before looking back at Lancelot, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "She has informed me of the injustice committed against her and I do not embrace nor defend the behaviour," she stated keeping eye contact with him. "But the point is you cannot condemn an entire religion based on the insanity of others. There are many Pagans who are just as evil in the name of their Gods and it is not fair to be so judgmental," she stated firmly, her eyes still holding his, her chin slightly raised letting him know that his argument was futile.

Seeing him suck in a deep breath, she decided that she was too worked up, too angered to let him have the last word. Too many emotions were consuming her and she just couldn't help herself. "Perhaps that is something _you_ should think about before _you_ are so quick to insult your best friend's beliefs," she snarled not at all faltering when his heated gaze only intensified. "He does not question our Pagan ways, does not force his religion on you but accepts your beliefs and loves them for they are part of you," her tone was firm and unwavering as her eyes remained locked with Lancelot's.

Her words seemed to echo off the walls and Lancelot could do nothing but glare. He was embarrassed, but mostly he was just so angry that they couldn't seem to have any sort of conversation without her yelling at him or he her. She was just so damn difficult and he wanted to shake her. He was too worked up though for this conversation or any other to continue; he had to calm down first.

So sending Keela a glare that he was sure conveyed the depth of his anger, Lancelot's nostrils flared in rage as flew out of his chair and stormed out of the room, the doors banging loudly behind him.

Bors roared with laughter as the Knights, Fiona, Guinevere and Vanora flashed Keela proud smiles, though, they meant nothing to her. She did not feel proud, she simply felt drained, exhausted. She was tired of this.

"You, lassie, are the only woman I have ever seen shut his mouth," Bors chuckled after controlling his bellows.

Vanora nodded. "Aye, you should be proud of yourself. Lancelot is too liberal with his tongue and does not care about the effect his words have on others," she praised leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest.

Keela sighed and slumped back in her chair bringing her fingers up to rub her temples. She knew this day was going to be bad, just knew it. She had not had a good wake up and nothing since then had gone well, at least not to her. She was just….off? She wasn't sure how she felt but she was not herself. Everything was starting to catch up to her, she could feel it. Something about today, about waking up and finding Lancelot next to her after she told herself she wasn't going to care anymore, him seeking her out, seating her next to him, defending her…it was all to much.

Taking a deep breath to calm the emotions that were begging to surface, she turned to Arthur and felt her lips curl when he gave her genuine smile. "Do you think I spoke out of place?" she asked softly. She never cared before, she was never one to back down from something she believed in and she did not believe in prejudice, but she had not meant to argue with Lancelot. She never meant to argue with Lancelot, and yet they always did. She just could never say anything right with the man. Hell, she could never do anything right!

Arthur shook his head and sighed. "You did not. He has needed to hear that from someone other than me and it was best that it came from you," he replied truthfully, his voice soft. "Thank you," he gave her such a genuine smile, one that lit up his features causing his brilliant green eyes to sparkle. It was easy to understand why and how Guinevere loved this man.

Keela returned Arthur's smile and caught, once again, Guinevere rubbing her stomach as she smiled warmly at the two.

Despite Arthur's words though, she still didn't feel satisfied. Sure, the conversation was ridiculous and the argument that ensued was even more absurd. There was nothing wrong with having disagreements or different views regarding ones faith, but she couldn't help but feel as if she had offended him.

It suddenly felt as if the walls were beginning to close in on her and the air became thick. Standing quickly and startling Galahad she swallowed the lump that was forming. "Please excuse me, I think I will go for a walk," she replied weekly.

Galahad met her eyes and could see the turmoil she was trying to hide and rose to his feet before she could move. "Shall I escort you?" he asked, his eyes asking her if she needed him.

Keela smiled warmly at Galahad, grateful for his concern but she just wanted to be alone, wanted to have time to herself. "Thank you Galahad, but I shall be fine," he frowned at her and she could see that he didn't like the idea. "Perhaps I will go fetch 10 and see if she will accompany me," she stated quickly looking to Vanora asking for permission.

Vanora nodded knowingly. "She would love that. She enjoys her time with you immensely," she replied softly, her eyes conveying understanding. She could see the signs, the emotion that Keela needed to let out.

Keela smiled and met Fiona's eyes, the older woman smouldering her with her motherly gaze. She could see the concern in Fiona's eyes and shook her head. She wanted to be alone and she did not want to worry her friend. She should be spending her time with Dagonet worrying about her own life, not Keela's.

Ignoring Fiona's frown she turned back to Galahad. "I bid you all good day," she said softly meeting everyone's eyes before quickly exiting the room.

It didn't take her long to find 10; the little girl had actually found her and latched on to Keela's hand with a grip that surpassed the young girl's age.

The fresh air and company did wonders for her mood. The pair walked along the river that flowed just behind the castle and curved around the city. The day was still gray but at least it wasn't raining and many townsfolk were out and about taking advantage of the fact. Numbers of woman were out washing their clothing in the cold water; in the distance shepherds could be seen with herds of sheep and goats leading the smaller animals to the water hole.

They had stayed out for hours, Keela watching 10 finally act her age and chase frogs, pick wild flowers and simply run around the older woman laughing gaily and simply enjoying their time together. It made Keela's heart soar watching the child, chasing her, laughing with her and simply forgetting her troubles and just enjoying herself.

Planting a loving kiss on 10's forehead, Keela hitched her higher and tightened her grip on the now snoozing toddler that had her arms and lags wrapped around Keela's body.

"Keela!"

Keela stopped and looked down at 10 hopping she had not awoken the exhausted child then looked behind her and smiled when she spotted all the Knights in the barn. It was obvious they had all just returned from their usual rounds around the City.

Bors and Dagonet were making their way to her and smiled. "Good day," she greeted warmly.

Dagonet nodded warmly while Bors shifted his face to see 10, a beam spreading when he saw the peaceful look on his young child as she slept. "Wear her out did you?" he questioned good naturedly.

Keela smiled and looked lovingly down at 10 again. "I believe I did," she replied. "I was on my way to take her home," she informed the pair.

Bors reached out and gently took his daughter who immediately curled into her father. "That's alright lass, Dag and I were on our way over there," he stated, nodding to his friend as he led the way.

Keela simply smiled and bid the two farewell before looking aback at the others, immediately catching the sharp gaze her husband was sending her.

She could see the anger his eyes still held and it made her stomach churn. She was tired of this, tired of that look. Taking a deep breath, she made her way towards him, nodding at Tristan, Gawain and Galahad who were still tending to their steeds.

Reaching her hand out, she ran her fingers over Mona's outstretched neck as she stood in front of Lancelot, not once braking eye contact. "Lancelot," she said lowly.

He simply stared at her, his arms crossed over his chest and his jaw clenched. His silence urged her to continue as she took a deep breath. "I want to apologize if I at all offended or embarrassed you this morning," she replied truthfully.

Lancelot let out the breath he had been holding and looked down at her then behind her then to Tristan, Gawain and Galahad who were all giving him a hard glare.

Tristan locked eyes with Lancelot and nodded for him to leave and deal with this problem. He knew more than the others what was going on in the dark Knight's head and it infuriated him like nothing before. He enjoyed listening to Keela. She was intelligent for her age and he could actually hold a conversation with her. She surprised him with her knowledge of weapons and warfare. Her knowledge of such things had only had his earlier suspicious confirmed when he first saw her; her build, callused hands had immediately given her away. There was something more to their new Princess.

Lancelot having understood the look grabbed Keela's arm tightly and pulled her into the tack room not bothering to shut the door completely.

Gawain sighed and leaned against a stall door, swatting his stallion's nose away when he tried to nibble on the large Knight's hair. "Do you think he will ever get over it?" he asked knowing the other two men knew what he was referring to.

Galahad scowled as continued to stare at the tack room door. "He better or he is going to lose a woman he does not deserve," he said boldly, surprising the others.

Tristan raised and eyebrow and glared at Galahad who only shook his head having understood the dark look. "I admit," he murmured moving to feed his mare a handful of oats, "she is one of the most beautiful women in Camelot, but she is his wife and I am not like him," he sent them a glare which they understood. "I do care for her, deeply, but nothing beyond what a brother would care for his sister," he said with a smile. They had become quick friends, them being the closest in age other than Guinevere, having many of the same interests and he cared dearly for her as if she were his own sister.

Gawain and Tristan both nodded in agreement and went back to tending to their steeds trying not to overhear the bickering couple.

Keela wretched her arm out of Lancelot's grasps and glared at him. He was lucky for if he were any other man she would have beat him within an inch of his life for manhandling her. Taking a deep breath she simply glared at him as he glared at her.

His silence was infuriating. Did he not have anything to say? She just couldn't fathom what his problem was and when he continued to stare at her, his eyes drowning in too many emotions to decipher, she couldn't contain herself any long. "I am sorry I am so difficult for you to look at. I am sorry I am not the one you love, but I am not sorry for speaking my mind and defending my opinion," she sneered boldly, her body tense as it prepared itself for yet another verbal sparring match.

Lancelot, who was still trying to find the right words to speak, just blinked and looked at her shocked at the words that came out of her mouth. Truthfully, he was proud of her for expressing her opinion and standing up to him. He did not like weak woman that was why he loved Guinevere so much.

It was at that moment, as her words finally registered, that he suddenly understood what she really meant and he felt his blood run cold. "What makes you think I don't like looking at you," he replied calmly hopping to redirect the conversation.

Keela saw the flash of realization on his face and knew he realized she had figured out his darkest secret. "Lancelot, you have hardly acknowledged my existence since I arrived, what reasons do I have to think otherwise?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, her arms crossed defensively in front of her chest.

Lancelot ran a hand through his unruly curls and let out an aggravated sigh while slumping back to lean against a workbench. "I am sorry, but this has not been easy for me," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He did not want to have this conversation. He was hopping to avoid it all together.

Keela scuffed and only intensified her glare. Selfish, inconsiderate bastard she fumed to herself. "Do you think I like this?" she took a step towards him, her emotions starting to build in her eyes. She could feel her breaking point approaching.

"You think that I like having to leave all that I have ever known and marry a man who loves someone else and resents me for it," she hissed her pent up anger finally getting the better of her as the volume of her voice started to rise.

Lancelot's head snapped up and his posture stiffened. "Do not speak of what you do not know woman, I wont stand for it," he replied venomously, his tone and eyes warning her not to continue the argument.

But Keela was indifferent to his pathetic attempts to intimidate her. She had grown up with men and was immune to them, especially this one. "I told you I will speak to you however I see fit. And I am also telling you that I refuse to be a dead man's wife for that is what I feel," her eyes flashed confidently as she saw Lancelot's face contort in confusion.

"I am not blind Lancelot; it is evident as the sun is in the sky that you love her and will not even give me a chance. Do you also think I don't hear about your nightly escapades? Hmmm?" she questioned, unable to hid the hurt that laced her voice as she took another step forward. It was then that she finally felt tears prick her eyes when his face paled in realization.

"Do you think I do not hear the roomers the women of this entire blood City whisper?" she didn't even bother to wait for any sort of answer. "The famous Lancelot is so displeased with his Irish whore that he turns to the pleasures of others to rid himself of the disgrace of having to be married to me," she yelled, her finger now pocking into Lancelot's stunned chest as her words dripped with such pain that he felt his heart shatter.

Galahad dropped the brush he had holding as his mouth hung open in shock, while Gawain paled and Tristan shook his head. They had known what Lancelot was doing but even the all knowing Tristan didn't know what the women were saying.

Lancelot's eyes went wide when he saw the tears spill from Keela's eyes, He could see the pain visibly and he felt his stomach contort in pain. He had hurt her, immensely. Acting on pure instinct he reached out to embrace her but she smacked his hands away.

"Do not touch me, do not pretend that you care," she spat in a shaky breath, the unwelcome tears now freely flowing down her cheeks with a vengeance. There was nothing she could do to stop them; the dam had been broken. All the months of pent up anger, rage, hurt and pain were flooding forth and nothing could stop them.

Lancelot felt his heart shatter when the tears continued and hated himself for being the cause of said tears. He hadn't fully realized the extent of her feelings but it was plain that she cared. His actions affected her greatly, and he had only just now realized how vile he really was. "Keela I did not—,"

Keela glared at Lancelot causing his words to die and shoved him with such force it sent him sprawling into the half open door and causing him to loose his footing. "Just get away from me you bloody bastard!" she screamed as she collapsed in sobs, her body no longer able to sustain the emotions that had finally taken her over.

Galahad, Gawain, and Tristan came rushing over when they heard the bang and looked down at Lancelot sprawled on the dirt floor then up at Keela, watching as she collapsed into a fit of sobs.

Galahad sucked in a deep breath and wasted no time in practically shoving Lancelot out of his way and engulfing Keela in his arms as she clung to him like a child and sobbed into his chest.

The four watched as Galahad rocked her back and forth while running his fingers through her dishevelled hair and speaking such comforting words, Tristan's eyebrows rose in shock.

Jols, along with a number of other stable hands who had heard Keela scream, came rushing in and stopped stunned when they took in the scene before them. Receiving a sharp look from Tristan that meant to get out, Jols nodded and ushered everyone out before taking off into the castle in search of Fiona.

Lancelot could only stare; his eyes flickering between Galahad and his sobbing wife as the once young and boisterous Knight cradled his sobbing wife, her clinging to him like her life line. He looked up at Gawain and then Tristan, the normally stock scout not bothering to hide his look of death. Lancelot swallowed hard knowing that they had indeed heard Keela's words and for once, he beyond ashamed.

Looking back at Keela, his body itched to hold her. She was his wife, he should be comforting her. Not that he deserved to be anywhere near her, he just couldn't help it. It was as if his body had suddenly snapped and the primal need to defend her, to protect her consumed him. It had startled him this morning when he had nearly thrown a dagger at Conner and Pontius; it was a feeling that was unable to be ignored. He needed to right this, right his terrible wrong.

Squaring his shoulders, he moved to his knees and was about to stand when he felt a firm hand on his shoulder push him down.

Gawain grabbed Lancelot's shoulder when he saw him moving towards the pair. He was the last person Keela needed right now, if ever. "Lancelot, I think you best leave her be," he snarled through gritted teeth. He had never wanted to strike the man more than he did at this moment; he even had half a mind to hunt down every wench that uttered such untruths.

"Keela!"

The four men barley had time to register Fiona and Guinevere shoving them out of the way as they ran to where Galahad still held a now silent Keela.

Arthur and Jols looked sadly at the woman who refused to release her hold on Galahad and then down to Lancelot who had an unreadable look on his face.

"Care to explain what happened?" Arthur asked dryly as his eyes conveyed the anger he felt for seeing Keela so distraught.

Lancelot ignored his friend's words and continued to stare at his wife as Guinevere and Fiona instructed Galahad to take her to their room when she failed to release him. He wanted to call out to her, reach for her, but the cold, hard look that Guinevere shot him froze his already cold heart. The look shattered his already shattered heart. What had he done?

_So, how did I do?_


	8. Chapter 8

_Well would you look at that, it's me. Yes, I am happy to report that my computer has been fully fixed. I mean, I still need a new one and all, but all should be well for now. So, I am happy to give you an update. It took me forever to get this and once again, I am not too sure how it turned out so be sure to let me know. Thanks to everyone for sticking with me. _

_By the way, I know my grammar and spelling suck, so if any of you lovely readers would be willing to Beta for me, I would appreciate it. _

*****

The silence that had settled upon the room was so loud it was deafening. The sounds of sparks crackling while spitting out burning ambers aiming for those that deserved to be scorned seemed to echo off the stone walls; flames reached out with long, witch like fingers illuminating the room with an eerie glow that amplified the uncomfortable ambiance that seemed to be sucking the air out of the room at an alarming rate.

Lancelot's eyes remained riveted on the small burning pyre that decorated the centre of the room, his ears ringing with the words that Fiona had just spoken.

It seemed that each occupant of the room had been rendered speechless as well, as they all stared at the fierce Irish woman who stood before them; her chest heaving and eyes flashing with molten hot anger as she let her maternal instincts consume her.

It was almost as if the meek, loving woman they had come to know had been taken over by a fiery banshee with a purpose. And that purpose screamed of nothing but imminent destruction for those who stood in her way and ignored her words of warning.

And fiery banshee Fiona was for she had had more than enough. Too long had she stood by and watched the child she had raised, the daughter she loved as her own, wither away. She was sure now that this had all been one very big mistake, a huge wrong that they had committed. She vowed to spend the rest of her life making it up to Keela.

She had urged the young woman to stay strong and keep trying to win Lancelot's love, and yet not at all taking into account what all this was really doing to the younger woman. She had stood by and watched Keela's life seep from her like a gapping wound that couldn't be healed and yet Fiona still encouraged her. She had watched the previous day as the young woman reached more than she could take and finally broke.

She closed her eyes briefly and willed the tears away that began pooling. She would never forget the haunted, dead look in Keela's eyes as Galahad carried her to her chambers. She had sat with the younger woman for hours, ordering everyone away, and attempted everything imaginable to get Keela to respond to her. Alas, nothing seemed to work and when she thought the younger woman had fallen asleep, she had left to fetch fresh water only to return to an empty chamber.

A quick search had shown a missing Mona and nothing else. No saddle, no belongings, just the horse and her mistress.

Fiona had stared into the empty chamber felt something within her snap. It was that thread of sanity that always threatened to render a parent completely mad when the child they bore was in danger. She had felt that sanity tear at her being as if a large beast were sinking its steel claws into her flesh and tearing her to shreds. She wanted her Keela back, she wanted her found, she wanted her safe, and most of all she wanted the younger woman happy. To her, that meant removing Keela from Camelot and this disastrous marriage immediately.

It was Dagonet who finally found the courage to recover first. His eyes were wide with disbelief and hurt as he fought to keep his person in check and not physically shake the woman he loved for even thinking of leaving him. "What did you just say?" he asked his beloved in disbelief, battling with himself not to simply tell her that she would not be leaving. He personally didn't think he could survive it.

The soft yet gruff voice of her lover softened Fiona's raging gaze. Titling her head down, Fiona met Dagonet's hurt filled eyes and steeled herself from the effect they could have on her. She hated to hurt him for it naturally hurt her. But Keela was her charge, her daughter in every way but blood and she would not, could not knowingly stand by this any longer. "I am sorry, my dear, but you heard me correctly," she answered regretfully, her voice unwavering.

Dagonet sucked in a deep breath and reached for her hand, only to flinch when she pulled away from him. He could feel it already, could feel his heart beating frantically beneath his ribs in protest as the woman who held it decided to leave.

Arthur's face fell just a little bit more when he saw the crestfallen look on Dagonet's face. "Fiona, please," he implored staring deep into her hard, angry eyes. "Let us first find Keela before any hasty decisions are made," he reasoned, his eyes flickering to a pale yet angry Guinevere then back to Fiona.

Fiona shook her head and narrowed her eyes. "This has gone on long enough Arthur. You came to us for an alliance. You came to us with the marriage proposal assuring us that Lancelot was the perfect match and would treat her with nothing but kindness and respect." She shot Lancelot a fiercely dark look before looking back at Arthur. "Yet from the moment she has arrived, he has been anything but."

Arthur winced and shot his eyes to Lancelot. The man was still staring at the burning pyre as if it held all the answers to life's most plaguing questions. Lancelot also had yet to say a word to any of them. He knew his friend though, he knew that the blank look on Lancelot's face was a result of the raging battle that was currently consuming him. However, if it was one thing he knew to be true about Lancelot, it was that he never, ever, parted with what he thought was his. He could only stall hopping that Lancelot would snap out of his brooding stupor and fight for the woman he unknowingly loved. Taking a deep breath, he tore his eyes away from Lancelot and settled back on Fiona. "Yes, I understand, but you…"

Fiona slammed her palm on the table, the loud smack echoing throughout the room and effectively cutting off Arthur's words.

Tristan rose an eyebrow as everyone flinched from the unexpected noise, at any other time he might have found Bors' over exaggerated jerk even amusing. However, Tristan was irritated. He didn't understand the need for his presence. There was nothing he could say to change the raving woman's mind. He could be serving some use and actually out tracking Keela. He was sure he could find her and drag her back to the Castle. But there was a part of him that wanted to leave her be for the moment. He wasn't a heartless man, despite popular belief, and he felt for Keela, he really did. So, that was why he said nothing, simply sat there and watched as Lancelot wallowed within himself. Personally, he thought his brother-in-arms was a fucking idiot. Simple as that.

"You do not understand," Fiona snarled daringly, not at all concerned with whom she was addressing. King or not, the fact of the matter was that her loyalties first and foremost lye with Keela and her family. "I have had enough. I want her found and when she is, we are leaving. End of discussion," she exclaimed crossing her arms over her chest as she stood at full height, her eyes still blazing. Her words once again momentarily put a pause to the argument. Though this time, it seemed that the walls were whispering in each occupants ear, taunting them, that Fiona was in fact dead set on taking Keela way.

It was finally in that moment that Lancelot slowly tore his dark, piercing eyes away from the burning flame that had hypnotized him into silence and levelled with Fiona. After the incident with Keela, he had spent the remainder of the day and night consumed with an emotion that he despised: guilt. He felt utterly guilty and wretched for how he had treated his wife; a woman who, up until mere days before, he had not at all bothered to care about. Yet she had been nothing but kind, respectful and loving towards him, even though he deserved anything but.

The full force of Keela's words had not hit him until later that evening when he had replayed them over and over again in his mind. He had not at all considered how this marriage would affect her. She had been uprooted from her home, dragged away from her family and all she knew to come to a new land and forced to marry him; a man who had nothing but self-loathing and hatred to offer her. His entire being had lost all feeling of life as he realized that he was no better than the Romans who had taken him from his home and those thoughts were what did him in.

Guinevere sucked in a deep breath and looked at Arthur, begging him to do something. She had been unable to say anything for fear she would fly across the table and strangle Lancelot with her bare hands.

Arthur sighed sadly and looked again at Lancelot who was still unresponsive, though he was now glaring at Fiona. Guinevere had been upset when Fiona sent her away after expressing her need to do anything to help console her dear friend. Arthur had then watched the Woad in his wife consume her as she redirected all her emotions into hate towards Lancelot. She had paced their chambers like a caged animal muttering under her breath all the ways she was going to make Lancelot suffer. There was something, however, she wasn't telling him . There was more going on than what he was being told, and he didn't like it. He had stormed through the Castle after he had calmed his irate Woad wife in search of his First Knight with the intent of beating the information out of the man. When he found Lancelot though, sitting on the cold, stone floor across from the Chambers he shared with Keela, staring at the door with such intensity he wondered when it would burst in flames, the anger urging him forward seemed to immediately dissipate. The man was clearly suffering enough. He did, however, talk Lancelot into leaving arguing that the Princess needed time to herself. Now he wished he had let the man be, at least Lancelot may have been able to prevent Keela from leaving.

Turning his eyes back to Fiona, Arthur once again suppressed the shock he felt having seen such anger come from the normally timid, controlled woman. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised though. He had caught a glimpse of the same fire in Keela's eyes whenever she stood up to Lancelot. "Lady Fiona, we have a treaty…" As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could take them back for if Fiona could get any angrier, she did.

Fiona's spine seemed to snap straight as her entire form began to shake with fury. "A treaty?" she echoed in disbelief, her pale face flushing red. "Your treaty is null for your end of the bargain has not been upheld. Your assurance that Lancelot would be a suitable husband was the farthest from the truth!" She paused and dared anyone to contradict her statement or lock her up for calling the King a liar.

When no response came, she continued. "The marriage has not been consummated," she stated unabashedly, glaring at Lancelot's wince, "therefore, it can and will be annulled along with the treaty."

Bors let out a snort, his huge form heaving as he attempted to suppress a chuckle. Arthur cleared his throat, loudly, and Bors attempted to cover it up with a cough in his clenched fist. He caught Gawain's eyes from across the table and could only shrugged innocently as the longhaired Knight rolled his eyes and shook his head.

Fiona ignored Bors' immature nature, and simply stood tall, holding her chin up and watching while each man attempted to pick their jaws up off the table and think of a response. It was frugal for she would not listen to anything they had to say. She had meant every word she had said for they had come straight from King Finchad. He had met with her before they left for Camelot and instructed her that if Keela was being treated unfairly or poorly in any way, she was to be returned home, consequences be damned. It was at that time that Fiona didn't think she could ever love and respect her King anymore than she already did.

Many men, Kings included, would simply leave their daughters in the hands of their new husbands whether cruel or not and not think twice about it. But Finchad was different. He cared more about his daughter, his family, then he did the alliance and it was a sentiment everyone knew of and respected. It was one reason why he was so well loved by his people. She did fear though that once King Finchad discovered how his precious Keela had been treated, he would demand Lancelot's head on a platter. She didn't even want to imagine what Fallon's reaction would be.

With those thoughts, Fiona's eyes flashed to Arthur's and watched as his face paled even more when he understood just what she was saying. She had been well aware of the threat King Finchad had uttered should his beloved daughter be treated unfairly and she wanted the King to be reminded of it.

Lancelot narrowed his eyes at Fiona. He should be angry, embarrassed even that his business, his indiscretions, were being aired out like dirty laundry before everyone, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. All he could focus on was the fact that Fiona wanted to take his wife away from him. He could feel something primal within him urging him to snarl and growl like an animal protecting it's mate at Fiona for even thinking of taking Keela away. He simply wouldn't allow it. He may not deserve Keela, she may hate him, but what he knew was that she could not leave him.

He heard the seat next to him shift and glanced at Galahad out of the corner of his eye. The pup was staring at the table with a clenched jaw, red face, and fists curled so tight his knuckles were white. He could see the pain Galahad was in that his newest friend, a friend he viewed as a sister, would be taken away from him just like everything else in their lives. He was sure that if by some chance, Keela was taken away from them, the Knight would never forgive him. He wouldn't blame Galahad, or any of them for that matter, as he looked away and focused back in on Fiona as she argued with Arthur. He didn't think he would be able to forgive himself if she were taken away, if she were to leave him.

But that was something that was not going to happen, ever.

With that resolve, Lancelot straightened up and cleared his throat catching Fiona's attention. When the older woman's glare once again settled on him, he held it. "My lady, please allow me to talk with Keela before any decisions are made," he requested evenly, his dark eyes boring into hers. It wasn't a request, per say. He would be talking with Keela, regardless of Fiona's feelings on the matter.

Fiona immediately shook her head. "Absolutely not! What right do you have to request anything from her?" she asked not allowing Lancelot to answer. "You have disgraced her without shame. You have no right to even speak her name," she hissed, leaning over the table, her arms shaking as they held her weight. How she wished that her glare could turn the man to stone.

Lancelot was not at all affected by her look; in fact, he admired her more for it. It was evident to see where Keela got her courage from. "I understand your anger towards me and do nothing to dissuade it for it is rightly deserved." He watched Fiona's eyes falter slightly and took in a deep breath. "But the fact of the matter is that Keela is still my wife and I will discuss my wrongs with her and explain myself. I owe you no explanation other than that I am sorry." His tone, firm posture and equally firm gaze left no room for argument. He would speak with Keela and the only reason he was arguing with Fiona was simply to appease her.

Fiona let out a defiant 'hump' of irritation only causing Lancelot's eyes to darken in anger. Were all Irish women this infuriating, he wondered in annoyance. "I assure you my lady, that is a sentiment that I do not utter often so take it for what its worth," he barked coldly, his dark eyes never wavering from hers.

He noticed Dagonet's nostrils flare at his tone, but he did not have an ounce of remorse. He simply held the older woman's stare with determined eyes waiting for her to give. And she would, for Lancelot was not one to give up when his mind was set. The threat to take his wife was one that should never have been uttered in the first place. He would damn well make it clear that Fiona would never suggest such a thing again. Keela was his wife, and would remain that way. Lancelot was a selfish man when it came to his possession. He didn't care what the blasted woman said, Keela was his whether he had acknowledged it or not. He had too much pride to allow Keela to leave. He wasn't ready to admit though that he couldn't fathom the thought of giving her up.

Fiona bit the inside of her cheek and finally tore her eyes away from Lancelot, cursing herself for no longer being able to look at the man any longer. His eyes were so hard, so full of determination that she just knew he would tie Keela to the wall before he let Fiona take her way. Lancelot was not a man to lie, that she knew. It was also the look in his eyes that told her as much when he voiced his apology. She would never admit it, but the dark Knight intimidated her. He was fierce, never unwavering, his black eyes always staring deeply into her and never letting up. It was enough to send chills down her spin. It only proved further that Keela was the perfect match for the dangerous man, at least she could handle him and his dark demeanour.

Letting out a shaky breath she looked once again at Dagonet who was trying his best to look understanding and supportive. She could see the hurt and pain though and felt horrible. She did not want to leave him; she certainly did not want to cause him pain. They had had an instant attraction towards each other and from the first moment he had called upon her, she knew she loved him.

But this wasn't about her and she had felt that somehow this was partially her fault. In fact, she knew it was. She knew Keela would fight her tooth and nail, probably even convince Fiona that she was being ridiculous for feeling such things, but the fact was that she had been so consumed with her new life here and the love she found that she had neglected the one woman she loved more than herself. Fiona had not paid enough attention to Keela as she whittled away. She had not done enough to prevent it. She would remedy that, for the rest of her life if she had too. Keela was a daughter to her and seeing her in this much pain was too much for the older woman.

She looked back up at Lancelot who was still staring at her with guarded eyes, his face showing nothing. He did not deserve Keela's love, but somehow he had it and it was for that reason alone she was going to grant his request; however, she would only allow so much. "I want you to know something Knight," she stated slowly, her eyes firming, "the Keela you know is nothing but a shell of who she really is," She thought to all the times she told Keela to not say this, to not do that. She had to swallow the bile that threatened to rise knowing that she indeed played a large part in breaking Keela.

Shaking her head slightly with an oath to right her many wrongs, she continued. "She may have allowed glimpses of the woman she really is at times, but I want you to know that you have slowly killed her, ruined the light that usually glowed around her," she paused, catching a small glimpse of pain and regret before Lancelot's mask once again concealed all he was feeling. She was not about to acknowledge that she herself played a part. That was between herself and Keela.

The room was still deathly quite as everyone held their breath waiting for her to grant the unworthy Knight a chance at redemption. "I will grant your request." She held her hand up when everyone let out a sigh of relief. "But," she said loudly, raising a finger in the air for emphasis, "there are conditions and if you break one, there will be nothing you can say or do that will stop me from shipping her home and informing her father… and that, is something no one would wish me to do," she exclaimed sternly, her eyes still courageously holding Lancelot's. Intimidated or not, she wanted the Knight to know that if he messed up again, she would be taking Keela away.

Lancelot's only reply was a simple nod. He gave nothing away and it unnerved Fiona even further. She could feel exhaustion setting in and sat gracefully down into the uncomfortable chair unable to stand up further against Lancelot's gaze. She would hate to be the unfortunate soul who was forced to stand up against him in battle. His reputation certainly preceded him. Swallowing her unease, she steeled herself once again. "First," she held up one finger, her elbow resting on the table edge. "you will go find Keela and be true to your word by explaining your wrong."

Lancelot nodded. "Of course," he replied firmly having intended to do just that.

"Second, if she decides to continue this marriage, you will never betray her again and if I find out that you have, my previous threat stands firm." When Lancelot nodded again, Fiona narrowed her eyes wanting him to understand just how much she meant what she said. She had no qualms with summoning King Finchad if need be.

Leaning forward, her chin high, back straight, she uttered the last condition. "Lastly, if Keela agrees to stay, and dare I say forgive you, and my Keela does not return to me, the life in her eyes, the glow, you are done," she all but snarled, her brow furrowed willing Lancelot to understand what this meant.

And he did. Lancelot knew what she was referring to and although he could make no promises as to the outcome, he could assure her that he would try his best to remedy his wrong. He let his eyes convey as much as he gave her a simple nod that spoke volumes.

Fiona relaxed slightly and returned the nod. She could only hope that she had made the right decision.

****

The day had turned cold; the sky was obscured by thick angry clouds that were just waiting to be released with a vengeance; the looming fog was thick and eerie like as it blanketed the ground, hiding all that sought solace in the protection it brought or in some cases, provided the perfect coverage in order to stalk and hunt.

Keela tore her eyes away from a grazing Mona, happily chomping on the fresh grass, and tilted her head down bringing her cheek to rest on her bent knees that one arm was currently wrapped around, hugging the limbs to her chest. She let out a tired breath as her eyes fluttered around her new found sanctuary, her other hand lazily tracing the beautiful plant beneath her fingertips.

It was not what one would call a beautiful place. There were no waterfalls, rushing creeks, fields full of beautiful wild flowers. It was surrounded by boulders, long grass, ferns, and moss…lots and lots of moss.

But, there was one particular attribute that caught Keela's immediate attention.

The pond; it was large, most likely a very popular watering hole, with the entire outer rim filled with white water lilies. They were beautiful. Large, thick green leaves floated along the surface littered with small, white flowers, their tips dusted pink. And to complete the sight, there was an overly large flat rock that extended into the water providing a dry surface to sit on and enjoy the peace this new found solace provided.

It was this sight that attracted Keela and clamed her.

Keela looked down at the water flower her fingers were currently tracing and simply stared. She had lost track of how long she had been here. The chill she felt in her bones was the only link she currently had to her present state, and even then she wasn't sure. Her body had long since gone numb, yet her treacherous mind would not. It was taking sick pleasure in replaying the days prior event over and over as if it were occurring again right in front of her.

To make matters even worse, she was appalled and utterly embarrassed that she had lost so much control over herself. But no matter how much she tried to regret her actions, her words, she just couldn't. She didn't care that a proper 'Lady' never raised her voice in public, and one certainly did not lash out in the way she had at her husband. Many men were unfaithful, it was practically expected; however, she just couldn't help the hurt that consumed her knowing that her husband was one of those men. It made her feel unappealing, unworthy, unimportant and worst of all unwanting.

She knew she had not been raised in a conventional way. No matter how much Fiona had tried to raise her as a Lady, she had the many opinions and views of a man. She had been treated as one all her life since that was all her father knew, for he had had more of a hand in raising her than Fiona had. She had lived with men, fought alongside them and even led them in battle; never had she had to deal with the emotions that were consuming her now.

She hated where her life had suddenly led her, and yet she felt selfish for feeling that way. It was not like she was thrust into a kingdom that was ruled by harsh, cold, cruel men. No, Arthur and the Knights were kind, honourable. They had even recently included her in a council meeting where they listened to her opinions and comments. Still though, it was assumed she was nothing but a woman of station who had not seen the true colours of the world around her. She was not use to this sort of treatment, use to being simply pushed aside and looked at as being a fragile, incapable and incompetent woman simply because that was what she was, a woman. It was painfully obvious to her that these people knew nothing of her homeland.

Keela turned her head and rested her chin on her knee, continuing to brush her fingers against the soft petals of the little flower floating on the water's edge, wishing that she had the courage to be the strong woman she knew she could be.

He approached slowly, his booted feet making little to no noise as he sought solace behind a large tree. It had taken Lancelot a surprisingly long time to find her, the only reason being that his stallion had a keen interest it seemed to where Keela's mare was. Though, now that he found her, he couldn't bring himself to move forward any further. She looked like a forest nymph, a woodland fairy, as the foliage surrounded her. It almost looked like the small clearing was protecting her, its embrace giving her the comfort and protection she so longed to seek.

It was mesmerizing to watch her. She was breathtaking in this element, yet he could feel the sadness oozing off her from where he stood. She was coiled into herself, her head resting on her knees, her arms holding herself together while her golden hair swirled around her as the wind blew.

At that moment her mare trotted up to her and leaned over Keela's shoulder to sniff the small flower that Keela was so enraptured with. He watched as the large white beast leaned her head into her mistress, letting out a huff of content as a delicate arm curled around and held her there, long fingers scratching the mare's head.

The spell she had unknowingly cast upon him evaporated when his view of her was blocked and Lancelot slumped against the tree he hid partially behind, his body fatigued with all he was finally allowing it to feel. The anger he felt towards Fiona and her threat to take Keela from him seemed to have shifted into doubt as he finally contemplated just how he was going to approach Keela. He knew he simply couldn't order her to stay. He had a feeling that he had yet to see Keela's true Irish temper and could only imagine what such a statement would earn.

He looked over his shoulder at his own stallion that was standing motionless behind him. Years of training had moulded the beast to be a silent predator in his own right. The pair moved as one, quite and lethal. Demon took him everywhere, always ready, willing and eager to please his master. Demon carried him into battle fearlessly, into the dark forest depths with flawless stealth always aware and alert for whatever danger there may be. His horse was loyal, his companion. They understood each other, no commands needed but the simple feel of Lancelot to guide him.

Lancelot looked back at Keela and ran an agitated hand through his hair. How he wished this woman were like his precious horse, it would have made his life so much easier. But no, the Gods found humour in bestowing him with a woman who he didn't want yet enraptured him from the very moment she peered at him through long golden lashes. They basked in his turmoil and he continued to curse them.

She was not like other women. And women he knew, just like horses. He could command them with a warm, gentle touch, murmured words of passionate love or a simple look. They flocked to him and he them. He loved the female body: so delicate, warm, round and soft. They were vixens in bed, soft spoken and dutiful in public always knowing their place.

But this woman? No. She had no qualms with making a fool of him in front of anyone, whether it be the King and Queen or the lowliest of peasants. What really baffled him though was that he never knew when this fire would flare. At times when he thought she would unleash it, she would cower and keep her head lowered. She didn't do anything he expected and it angered him. He did not like it. In fact, he hated it and at the same time he relished it.

He hated how he found her intoxicating. She was an infection that seemed to have unknowingly consumed him. He hadn't fully realized the extent until Fiona threatened to take her away from him. Lancelot's fist's clenched, the leather of his riding gloves and thin armour making a squelching noise as his muscles flexed. Just the thought of someone taking her from him was enough for him to want to wage war.

Yes, Keela was unlike any other woman he had ever known, and that was why he wouldn't allow her to be taken from him, ever.

_*Well, how did I do? I had to split this into two parts since I was up to like 20 chapters. I should have the next chapter out sometime next week at the latest. _


	9. Chapter 9

_Alrighty then, we have an update. I want to take a moment to thank my new and wonderful beta: rae-rae89. Thanks so much for all your help and wonderful suggestions. Thank you also to everyone who reviewed, I appreciate everyone's comments and thoughts….keep them coming!_

_******_

She had never believed in fairytales as a child. Sure she enjoyed Fiona's tales of valiant men who always saved the innocent fair maiden from an evil villain. She enjoyed listening to the enthusiasm in Fiona's voice when she would speak of timeless love that ran deeper then their souls. Fiona had often said that it was this pure love that always won in the end. It was why the brave man was always able to find his love and defy the odds against him in order to save her. However, the true value of the lessons had been lost on young Keela as she was more inclined to spend time with Fallon and Oran wrestling in the mud with her father.

It was when she got older that Keela began to understand the underlying meaning of those stories. She had thought it was folly that a love so deep could run between two people. It seemed unnatural to her. She was convinced that was the reason people made up such stories, as if dreaming about it could make it seem more real since it was so unattainable.

It wasn't until she learned more about her mother and began to pay attention to her father's reaction to the mere mention of her mother's name that she began to doubt her initial thoughts. It was the love that shone in her father's eyes at the mere mention of her mother that planted the seed of doubt; after hearing the way her father spoke of her lost mother as he told her endless stories was enough for Keela to believe that her father had found that kind of love with her mother. Fiona had been right all along. True love was rare, but it did exist. It had existed between her mother and father. It was the same love that she saw in Arthur's eyes when he watched Guinevere or when Dagonet looked at Fiona. It was a deep, all consuming love that tied one to the other, that made the world they lived in more bearable. It was also a love that made one forgive, no matter how treacherous the transgression.

So it was, in that instant, when the hairs on the back of Keela's neck began to prickle and stand on end alerting her to his gaze on her person that Keela knewit would be that love that forced her to forgive. It all became sadly clear as to the reason she had been so affected by his actions; she loved him. She loved him with all her body had to give. She loved him with such fierceness that she would gladly give her life for him. And he despised her.

Curling her arms tighter around her bent legs, Keela attempted to steel herself as she heard him approaching. She thought back to the day they had wed when she had promised herself that she would not allow him to break her. She thought back to when she had promised herself she would not care that her husband loathed her. She thought back to all the times when she willed herself to hate him. And it all made sense as to why each attempt failed. She loved him and that was why it hurt so much.

He was behind her now, no doubt greeting a nickering Mona and relieving Demon of his burdens so the huge beast could graze freely. Keela closed her eyes, feeling her flesh tingle and her insides twist with anticipation to his nearness. However the feeling was tainted. Previous events clouded her mind and she felt the familiar sting of hurt and anger bubble forth. Despite her feelings for this man, she was not so lost in them to simply let herself brush aside all the hurt that was still eating away her soul, piece by piece. She loved him, she would no doubt forgive him, but that time was not right now.

Lancelot could delay no gave Demon a finalpat on his rump as his stallion butted his head into Mona's flank. He chuckled as the mare turned and flashed his stallion a glare that rivalled her mistress before nipping at Demon. Watching as the two steeds trotted away from the pair, Lancelot took a deep breath as he turned and looked down at Keela who had yet to greet him. Her crouched posture was stiff and uninviting; her eyes looked hard, cold and vicious. He could swear that the soft mixture of brown and green had now become a dark shade of swirling anger; a hard current that was ready to drown him. She looked beautiful in her anger. "Keela," he greeted as he lowered himself next to her on the large stone she rested upon.

Keela didn't look at Lancelot but simply nodded to show she heard him. She continued her gaze at the murky pond as she wondered where to begin. There was so much that needed to be said and yet, she couldn't bring herself to find the words to begin. So, she simply sat, her mouth clamped firmly shut while she waited for him to start, knowing when he did, she would surely end it.

Lancelot's eyes scanned the clearing around him, his seasoned senses unable to keep him fully aware of all and everything around them. It was a habit that had become so ingrained over the years that even when there was peace with the Woads, he was still unable to feel fully at ease in such a heavily wooded area. When it became clear that Keela was not going to address him, Lancelot tore his eyes away from their surroundings and stared at her profile. "I am sorry," he breathed out, his pathetic apology irritating even him. He really was unableto think of anything more appropriate to say.

That was not what she was expecting him to say and Keela let out a mirthless laugh. "Your apology means nothing to me at this point in time Lancelot; so do not bother with such useless words," her tone was dry, tired and she still made no move to look at him.

Lancelot sat up straighter and stared at her through narrowed eyes, irritated that these Irish women doubted his honour. "I do not throw those words around lightly, my lady, so you better damn well realize I mean what I say," he hissed, his irritation and anger getting the better of him. He was uncomfortable, immensely so. He didn't deal with these types of situations well; in fact, he couldn't ever remember a time when he had to deal with such.

This time Keela snapped her head around and returned his glare with one of equal force. "You expect me to believe that?" she questioned incredulously, an eyebrow raised as she levelled him with a look that spoke of her doubt. If possible, her eyes became even harder and Lancelot was still stumped by how beautiful she looked while angry. She looked fierce even. "Your words are empty and meaningless for your actions speak otherwise," she retorted, her brows furrowing as her eyes narrowed further in challenged. She dared him to disagree with her, dared him to contradict her.

Lancelot rose to the challenge as his eyes flickered over her features. He was not used to women speaking against him and once again he cursed the gods for sticking him with the only one who seemed to have no problem with it. "You believe me to lie?" he questioned, his tone rising in warning. He may be many things, but a liar was not one of them; and he certainly did not appreciate being accused of beingone. Sure, he had deliberately hid the truth, but that didn't make him a liar in his mind.

Keela shook her head in annoyance and looked back out towards the pond, exasperated that he could only focus on the fact that his pride was being questioned. Typical, she grumbled to herself. "Lancelot, you and I both know that actions speak louder than words. So I refuse to accept your apology. I have no reason to believe you for you have given me none," came her sharp reply. She didn't dare look at him. She was so angry she feared might even remove his lying tongue; or better yet, another appendage he held so very dear. It was invigorating to feel her body tingle in its anger as opposed to the depressed gloom that had been weighing her down. Anger she could handle.

Lancelot clenched his jaw in frustration. She was right. She was always right, and it was driving him mad. Yet he had to respect her and her ability to stand up to him. It was not a feat many could say they hadaccomplished, women especially. He knew he was intimidating, dangerous; many men wouldn't even look him in the eye, yet Keela had no qualms with making him look and feel like a fool. "Look," he breathed out, slouchedand tired of all the fighting they seemed to do. "I understand that I have not been the best...husband" he paused, the title feeing foreign of his tongue, yet not as unpleasant as he had assumed. That surprised him.

He had also been surprised during their last council meeting at the anger that flooded his veins when Conner and Pontius had treated Keela with such blatant disrespect. The audacity to insult her right in front of him, the King and Queen, had sent his insides into a fury of rage urging him to take the lives of those who dare utter such words. It was even more of a surprise when he verbally threatened as much and declared her as his wife. He had never felt more invigorated knowing he had protected his woman, defended her. For no matter what anyone said, she was his. He had realized thatwhen his entire being felt as if it were coiling into itself when Fiona threatened to take Keela away from him.

Keela turned to look back at Lancelot and stared at him indignantly, her eyebrow raised condescendingly. Lancelot nodded, letting out a sigh before tearing his eyes away from her and looking out at the pond once again. "Alright, I have been unworthy in every sense of the word," he uttered feeling not only embarrassed but surprisingly bare. He disliked feeling unworthy, but even he couldn't deny the truth to Fiona's words that he was unworthy of Keela, unworthy of being her husband.

Keela stared at Lancelot in surprise, watching him clench his jaw in discomfort. She could only imagine how difficult it was for him to say such a thing. It was easy to tell the dark Knight was not accustomed to such speech and she found herself softening knowing that he was trying, making an effort. "Tell me why then?" she pleaded softly, wishing to understand how her presence could displease him so. "Why am I so hard to live with?" She swallowed the pooling saliva in her mouth as she fought to form her final question. "Why am I so hard to love?" she whispered so quietly,her eyes falling away from his rugged features and looking behind him at the grazing animals that had no cares in the world.

Lancelot tilted his head to regard Keela; he was sure he was not meant to hear her last question, but it was as if the meadow carried it right to him. "It is none of those things, Keela," he breathed out, willing her to believe him. She once again would not meet his eyes, only shifted them to gaze at the small flower and the finger she brought up to trace its petals. He could feel the resentment his statement earned though as her jaw clenched tightly shut, her muscles twitching at the force. She again didn't believe him.

Lancelot brought a hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose knowing he was going to have to divulge much more than he ever intended. It was either make her understand and give him a chance or risk Fiona taking her away. "Keela, I...," he paused trying to speak the words that he had never even dreamed of uttering.

Keela slowly tore her eyes away from the delicate flower and looked him straight in the eyes, her face now sad and pleading with him to explain his treacherous actions. "I never dreamed I would marry; truthfully, I wasn't even sure I wanted to," he began, his deep voice surprisingly hollow and empty as he prepared to bare his soul.

Keela cocked her head to the side and opened her mouth but snapped it shut when he held his hand up for her to keep quiet. He was sure he would never get out what he knew he had to if she interrupted. Obediently, Keela closed her mouth and nodded for him to continue. Taking a deep breath, Lancelot looked back out at the pond before them knowing he wouldn't be able to look at her as he spoke. "I was taken from my home when I was no more than 12 winters. Ripped from all I knew and taken to fight for a country not my own and in a land that was flooded with demons." He looked around, taking in the dense forestry, absentlyremembering a time not too long ago when he would have feared for his life sitting alone in these woods.

The tone of Lancelot's voice had Keela completely riveted. She shifted her weight to face Lancelot fully, having a feeling that what he was about to share with her was something no one had ever had the privilege of hearing.

"There were 40 of us to start; 40 men with the youngest being only 7 and the oldest 18." He paused feeling his insides clench whenever he remembered the fallen who never deserved to lose their lives in such a way.

"I knew what to expect, for my father had groomed me from infancy. I knew that I would become a knight, at one time I even looked forward to it." He let out a bitter chuckle at the naive child he had once been, running through grassy plains playing Knights with other boys. "No amount of warning could have prepared me for the horrors that awaited me," he muttered darkly, his eyes having taken a faraway look as he brought them to another time.

Keela bit the inside of her cheek, her eyessoftening in sadness as she quietly listened. Their world was a dark place. Most people, despite their status, never knew anything but poverty, war and heartache. She felt her heart reach out to the man that was forced into the darkest of places at such a young age. She wanted to tell him she could sympathize, in a way. For she herself had not had as easy a childhood, as she suspected Lancelot assumed. She knew what it was like to have a childhood stripped away as they were forced to grow too fast. But those were tales for another day, another time.

Lancelot's eyes flickered to Keela's briefly before looking back at the calm lake. "By the time we were done training, we were down to 35. I was 14 when I was forced into my first battle." He paused, still feeling the repercussions that fateful day had on him. He would never forget their faces; the screams and the pain that haunted him at having to take someone's life for the first time. Keela watched the emotion play across Lancelot's face as he relived the no doubt traumatizing day. She had to clench her fists into the folds of her skirts to stop them from reaching out and gathering him to her in hopes of somehow taking the pain away from him and transferring it into her.

"I will never forget watching in horror as dirty men painted in blue attacked mere boys," his tone was laced with painful sadness, and Keela's tears began to blur Lancelot's form as she listened to the gruesome tale.

"We were unprepared. It was a routine patrol in an area that had not seen any Woads for at least 12 months. There were 10 of us…," this time his voice cracked and he swallowed the lump that was forming as the day replayed right in front of him.

"It was worse than watching cattle being slaughtered by a pack of ravenous wolves. Three of us walked away and barely at that," his voice trailed off, once again taking on a hollow, lifeless tone as the image disappeared and his hand absentmindedly reached up to the large scar that ran from his collarbone to his chest. He had been imbedded with an axe that day, his armour having barely saved his life.

This time, unable to stop herself, Keela reached out and gently eased her hand on top of the one that rested on edge of Lancelot's folded knee. Lancelot looked down and stared at her smaller hand as it rested on top of his. It amazed him how much smaller her hand was compared to his large one. As if the appendage had a life of its own, his hand turned over and he laced his fingers with hers gripping tightly to her as his body suddenly filled with a warmth that he had never experienced.

Taking a deep breath, and looking back over the pond whilekeeping a firm grip on her hand, Lancelot found the courage to continue. "I changed after that," he stated bitterly. "I have always been headstrong, determined and strong willed. But after that battle all the joy in my life, the last shred of innocence, truly evaporated and all I was left with was self preservation. I grew bitter, cold, and cynical." Lancelot looked at Keela expecting to see her nodding her head in agreement with his description; however, she was looking at him with nothing but understanding and tenderness. For a brief moment he felt himself stiffen with anger, wanting to snap at her for even thinking she could understand what he went through. However, as if sensing his darkening mood, Keela's calloused thumb began rubbing soothing circles along the side of his palm and he was surprised to feelhis anger dissipate with each stroke.

Closing his eyes, Lancelot knew he had to continue and vowed that he would never talk of such things again, for he had not been prepared for the onslaught of emotions that were threatening to turn him into a raging bull. "For 15 years I watched my brothers die. Each day I grew further and further into myself only finding solace in my brothers company and the warmth only a woman can provide. It was all I had, all that kept me sane, grounded." He chanced to look at her now, and surprisingly breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw the same understanding on her face, her thumb still rubbing his skin ever-so-softly.

"I tried to better myself everyday. Arthur and I would spend hours training, determined to never let anyone or anything best us." His lips curled slightly as he thought of his dearest friend and all they had been through together. He knew, just as Arthur knew, that neither would be alive today if it weren't for the sacrifices the other had made to ensure such. There was nothing he wouldn't do for Arthur, nothing.

"For two years it was just the 6 of us. We were the best and it showed. Though, there were many times when we nearly lost one of them. But we fought, for it would be unbearable to separate us now." He heaved a heavy sigh as he pushed away the memories of times where they nearly lost Dagonet, Tristan, Bors, Gawain, Galahad and even Arthur.

"When we met Guinevere…" Lancelot paused and tightened his grip on Keela's hand when she attempted to remove it at the mention of their Queen. He was not about to give up the effect the warmth her touch was having on his fridge heart.

"I was immediately enraptured by her beauty." He saw Keela wince out of the corner of his eye and this time was unable to stop Keela from wrenching her hand from his grip. His brow furrowed as she once again curled into herself as if the words he were about to tell her would surely unravel her.

Sighing, he looked back out at the pond, watching as a dragonfly fluttered around the surface. "I had never met a woman so enticing," he began, entranced by the small insect's movements, and completely unaware of his nostalgic, longing tone. "She was strong in every way. She was dark, dangerous and represented everything that I hated." He tore his eyes away from the dragonfly and stared up at the grey clouds that were moving slowly to the south.

"I fought with myself and the pull I felt towards her. I was convinced that she was sent to destroy us, starting with Arthur." Lancelot looked back down at the pond, still unable to look at Keela, and plucked one of the flowers from its floating pedestal.

"She spoke of things she did not know, dreamed of things that would not happen and preached of a world that would never be. She was as ridiculous as Arthur was," his voice had dropped, tinged with resentment as he focused his attention on tearing the silky pedals off one by one.

"I suspect that is why they were so drawn to each other; the ridiculous ideas they shared." Keela shut her eyes as she noted the twinge of bitterness that lingered in his voice as he spoke. She didn't know how much more she could handle.

Lancelot dropped the last pedal and simply stared at it before him; the vibrant white now tainted by the dirt that marred its beauty. He turned his hands over and looked at the filth that covered them and then looked at the ruined flower, not at all failing to see the irony between the flower and the woman who sat quietly next to him.

Sighing, Lancelot brushed the pedals into the pond. "But she was also fierce, passionate, dangerous and mysterious even. She challenged everything I stood for. She made me question my beliefs, my morals; a feat which no woman had ever accomplished before," his tone was quiet, barely above a whisper, as both knew the words he was speaking were taboo for simply thinking and surely blasphemous for uttering. "I had never had anything more than a silly woman want to spread her legs for me."

Keela was unable to look at him; she didn't even want to chance a glance. Instead, she stared where Mona and Demon were now grazing; white and black standing close, side by side and in utter peace. They were complete opposites. Demon was exactly that: a demon, practically breathing fire when angered. The animal would let no one other than Lancelot, and surprisingly her, near him. He bit, kicked and ragedat anyone else. She could just imagine what he was like in battle, and assumed it was probably as fierce as she imagined Lancelot to be. Mona, on the other hand, was calm, soothing and warm. Yet at the same time, her mare held no fear and was loyal to a fault. She would follow Keela even in death. Such striking differences, yet utterly beautiful. Painstakingly, it was her and Lancelot she saw when she looked at them.

"It wasn't long until I found bewitched by her. I was angry for feeling that way and yet I soon realized that I would never feel that way for another. So, I once again lost myself in other women, enjoying the pleasure they gave me, always imagining it was her." Lancelot was looking at the back of Keela's head now, willing to see her eyes so she could know just how hard this was for him to say.

Keela laid her head on her knees and continued staring at Mona and Demon, drawing in their beauty in order to survive. She couldn't stand to listen to this; it simply cut too much and hurt too deeply. It certainly helped that she had a better sense of understanding Lancelot. Women had been a release for him, a way for him to keep grounded and stay alive when most found themselves unable to. Women had provided him the comfort he needed and she wouldn't fault him or them for that. She knew she shouldn't be hurt he had allowed himself to love another woman, but it did. Her female jealousy couldn't help it. She also couldn't help but wonder what was so wrong with her.

She still wouldn't look at him and Lancelot found himself growing more and more distressed over that fact. Here he was baring himself to her in a way he had never done with another, not even Arthur, and she couldn't look at him. Swallowing the urge to simply give up and leave in a cloud of anger, he stared at her golden hair that still blew slightly in the wind. "I was content with watching her and my best friend make a life together. I had accepted that I would never love another and to tell you the truth, I didn't want to." He saw the shudder ripple down her spine at his words and the ache to see her face, to know what she was feeling, grew even more intense. He wasn't telling her this to hurt her, simply to understand.

"Then you came," he whispered softly while letting out a gush of air.

Those words swirled around Keela's head, the implications of them taking a moment to sink in. Ever so slowly, as if she were to move to fast the moment would vanish, Keela turned her head and looked at him with wide eyes as he levelled her with the intensity of his stare.

Holding her shocked gaze, Lancelot continued, hoping that she truly understood what he was telling her and just how important she was to make him even attempt it. "I dreaded, loathed, the idea of marrying you. I even threatened to return to Sarmatia," he chuckled and shook his head as her eyes narrowed and her spine straightened. "Yet I cannot and will never abandon Arthur and all we have built here," he said evenly, his head tilting in the direction of Camelot as he spoke to emphasis his point.

Keela looked away from him again and he chastised himself at how his words must have sounded to her. He let out a deep breath, feeling utterly depleted and drained, though he was still fiercely determined to get through to the fair-haired woman before him. "I was taken with your beauty the instant I saw you," he found himself looking past her as he watched Demon and Mona, "and I hated you for it." He heard Keela's sharp intake of breath and couldn't bring himself to look at her for fear that seeing anymore of the hurt he had caused would surely eat him alive.

"Your very presence calls to me. You have no fear in speaking back to me, you defy me, you irritate the sanity out of me and at the same time you cower from me. I don't know what you do to me, you have infected me on a level no one else ever has," he said all in one breath before tilting his head down to look at her. She was sitting as straight as her position would allow and was staring at him with a look mixed with disbelief, shock, and dare he suspect, hope. He inclined his head in her direction, his dark eyes boring into hers, hoping they conveyed just what his words meant, what he was really saying.

"I didn't want to care," he said softly since he was so close to her, cocking his head to the side slightly as he regarded her, "didn't want to give my heart to another. Guinevere had it, she was all I had ever wanted and I despised you for trying to take it away," he saw the pain flash through Keela's eyes at his words and leaned back, running a hand through his hair in irritation athaving caused so much turmoil with his selfish actions.

"So, I sought comfort in others...," Lancelot swallowed still seeing her features contort in pain and quickly explained. "I didn't want to feel these things, couldn't stand the thoughts that plagued me. I needed the peace, the relief," his voice was rising as each word left his mouth, his face contorting in anger, not towards Keela she noted, but towards the situation itself.

Then his face suddenly softened and his piercing dark eyes seemed to deflate as he let out a sigh. "But, you were always there. It was your face that I saw, your voice that whispered in my ear and your caress that I felt," his voice trailed off, his admission seeming to still all around them.

"I am ashamed to admit that I have disgraced you since you have arrived. I have certainly done nothing to make you feel loved and welcome; my behaviour is inexcusable and I understand if you hate me," he exclaimed, deliberately leaving out the option for her to leave for it certainly was not one. She could hate him, but he was sure he could change that with time. He let out a loud, shaky breath as his eyes flickered to her. Her eyes still hadn't changed and he felt himself relax when he didn't see a hint of hate. Life seemed to be holding its breath waiting for Keela's reaction.

Keela only blinked at Lancelot as he waited for her reply to all he had said. Truthfully, she didn't know how to react. She went from anger to hatred to sympathy to understanding to love then to anger again. She didn't know whether to be insulted or to love the ridiculous man. It was simply too much. What he was saying couldn't have been true, could it? Was he really battling with himself this entire time? She asked herself as she turned her head to look back over at Mona and Demon hoping for a moment to collect herself.

She felt for him though, understood his pain, for she had not been much older when she herself was thrust into a world she was not ready for. Fiona had been right, yet again, she realized. Lancelot had been reacting in the only way he knew how. Where that still did not forgive the fact that Lancelot had betrayed her, it certainly aided in her understanding what truly compelled Lancelot to behave the way he did. She still didn't know where this left them though. What had he decided? Was she simply a curse that had been inflicted upon him and he was determined to thwart her by using other women? Was that why he was telling her this, so she could live with the knowledge she was not who he wanted and he would continue his course of life? Taking a deep breath, she turned and looked at Lancelot. "What are you trying to say Lancelot?" she asked quietly, her entire being stilling as it waited for him to speak the words that would either shatter the last shred of her sanity or give her the chance to crawl out of this self loathing hole of despair.

Lancelot watched as this time his hand reached out and pried an arm free from the grip she had on her curled legs. He took her hand in his, holding her delicately calloused hand, and marvelled at how soft it was. She had a few pale scars running along her wrist, knuckles and even a few on her fingers and he found himself frowning, wondering what caused them. Had she been hurt? Did she have other scars? There was so much about her he didn't know. Looking back into her uniquely beautiful eyes, he knew what he wanted. "I want another chance Keela. I want to be a husband you deserve, the husband your father led you to believe I could be. I want to know you." His words held such conviction, such determination Keela had a hard time doubting him.

But she did. She didn't feel reassured. Sure, she had a better understanding of him and his behaviour, and she appreciated the effort he put forth sharing that part of himself with her more than he would ever know. But like she had said, words were easy. It was his actions that would convince her of his true commitment to them. Still, she couldn't find fault in them. She felt herself believe on some level that he would stand true to them and show her he meant them. She just hoped this time he wouldn't let her down, for she firmly believed she wouldn't be able to survive it. Closing her eyes, she marvelled at the feel of his rough thumb as it stroked her knuckles and drew from that. She would try as well, but he had to understand that his actions had consequences, despite what he said.

"You hurt me," she declared, her voice dripping with said emotion, her eyes opening and divulging all she truly felt.

Lancelot felt the full force of her gaze hit him like that of a blunt object. It tore at him to see such a look on her beautiful features and wondered just why he fought her for so long. She was such a striking creature, a rare beauty of their time that was gifted to him and all he could do was curse that gift and shame it. He looked away, feeling the bitterness and resentment swirling within.

She could tell he was brooding as the silence lingered on and knew that those three simple words had had a profound impact on him. "You don't deserve another chance," she continued, staring into his dark orbs as they snapped to hers. She could see the apprehension on his face, the fear that she wouldn't give him another chance after such a heartfelt declaration. She knew that if she were to deny him, he would never open to another again and he would truly be ruined.

"This entire time you have acted selfishly and thought of no one but yourself. You didn't care about me, about the women you used for your own selfish reasons, and you certainly didn't care about the effect your actions would have on Arthur, Guinevere and the others," she bit out harshly, unwilling to placate him just yet with words of understanding as to the excuses for his actions. He needed to know that he was not and never would be the center of Camelot and the world did not revolvearound him and the demons he fought. She felt that Lancelot failed to realize that everyone had demons, some equal and maybe worse than his.

Lancelot blinked, amazed at her ability to scold him like a child. He had certainly acted like one but no one ever spoke to him in such a manner. Sure the other Knights had no qualms with telling him that he was acting like a horse's ass and delivering a well placed and deserved right hook, Galahad being the latest testament. But what cut deep was that she was right on so many levels. He had been selfish. He had held so much against her, blamed her for the effect she had on him, blamed her for not being Guinevere and blamed the others for putting him in such a position.

Keela watched as Lancelot deflated, his features darkening as he no doubt continued to brood within. She continued though, needing him to know just how much she was affected when all he seemed to focus on in his speech was himself and how he felt in all this. "I can understand how hard it was to share everything with me and I want you to know that I thank you, for I can only imagine just how difficult it was for you," she said softly, her eyes shining with her gratitude as she brought her other hand up to encase Lancelot's between her two.

Lancelot marvelled at the feeling of having both Keela's hands hold his as he thought over her words. It was hard for him to share with her. He would rather run into battle swordless than have to do anything like that again, for Lancelot was not a man to share himself so deeply with others, anyone really. He didn't talk of such things and he was grateful that Keela seemed to be able to distinguish that. He was sure the only reason he had gotten it all out was because she was the one listening.

Keela lifted her hand that wasn't laced in Lancelot's strong grip and curled her fingers under his chin, raising his head so he could look directly at her. "And where I fully sympathize and understand your explanation for why you acted the way you did, I will certainly not accept the excuse," Keela tore her hand away from Lancelot's chin when he recoiled as if she had physically struck him. She watched his eyes darken and knew her words were being taken as a personal insult.

Lancelot opened his mouth with the full intention of burning her with words in response to her implication; however, when Keela held up her hand indicating for him to give her the chance to speak, he had no choice but to comply. She had granted him the same understanding and it was only right he do the same.

Sighing gratefully that he was giving her a chance to speak, Keela continued with her tirade. "You may be dense and conceited enough to believe that my feelings were not relevant in the matter," her tone was still soft and Lancelot felt the hurt she felt in her words. "I understand you were reacting in the way you only knew how." She gave his hand a squeeze, her way of telling him just how much she understood and he once again felt like a child for reacting so quickly to her previous words.

"But you must understand that all you do effects others. You must understand how it felt for me," she implored. She didn't feel the need to elaborate, and knew that he understood when his eyes dropped and his shoulders slumped. And he did, he finally did at that moment when everything Keela said sunk in and he allowed himself to view past events from her perspective. What a bastard he had been.

"But," he perked up and stared at her with baited breath as a slow smile curled her plump lips. "I want to give you anther chance," his breath left his body and he felt a swell of hope.

Keela's smile grew when he returned hers. "I want you to know me and I want to know you further. I want to make this work Lancelot. I too didn't want to marry, but I came into this marriage willing to put in an effort, willing to try. You have lost my trust and although I will give you another chance, I still don't forgive you nor will I accept your apology until you have proven to me that you stand by your words." Her words were not hateful, there wasn't an ounce of anger laced in any of them and once again Lancelot was dumbfounded. She truly was unique in every sense of the world for never would he have imagined a woman such as she so willing to forgive, so willing to accept him for all he truly was.

"I understand," he said, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it softly, grinning at the light blush that painted her pale cheeks. "I will do my best to prove myself to you," he vowed, his voice echoing across the pond with his promise as he lowered their hands, refusing to let go just yet. He had never simpl_y _held a woman's hand before and finally deducted the warmth was something only Keela would ever be able to provide.

Keela met Lancelot's eyes and smiled. It was small and she still had the traces of hurt in her eyes, but it brought him hope.

******

_Well, what do you think? _


End file.
